


Heir of Ash

by MystiqueFox



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Angst, Eddie Redmayne - Freeform, F/M, Jupiter Ascending - Freeform, Kaliqueabrasax, Prequel, Romance, balem abrasax - Freeform, balemxoc, jupiter jones - Freeform, seraphi abrasax - Freeform, titus abrasax - Freeform, titusxoc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 48,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystiqueFox/pseuds/MystiqueFox
Summary: Raised in an age of discovery and secrets, Arvella Silaverius is forced into a life that she could have never foreseen. Met with siblings of fortune and terrible temptations, Arvella finds herself torn between what is right, and what she desires. Dodging lies and escaping chilling realities, will she find the strength to change her own existence?
Relationships: Balem Abrasax/Original Female Character(s), Titus Abrasax/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

Her trembling hand reached out to his fragile, shattered face. Her fingers brushed against the damaged skin, tracing the lines of his jagged cheekbone. A shaky gasp escaped her throat as she gently laid her palm against his freckled cheek, shivering at the frigidness she was met with. Tears swelled in her amethyst eyes as she dared to look at him, dared to look at his still form, closed eyes that would see no more.

"What has happened to you, my starlight?" She choked, rubbing her thumb over the blood and ash that had trespassed onto his flawless skin.

Finally, the barrier broke as her eyes shut tightly, a horrible sound retching from her throat as she cried, screamed, released the pain she had held for so long. He was gone, he had left her, he had broken his promise. She wept into her free hand, held her own shattering face as she cried, cried for the first time in a long time. She had gone, she had left him, she had broken her promise.

After a few moments, she brought herself to open her eyes, to look upon him once more, hoping to see him smiling at her, his smokey eyes so full of life, so full of ambition. Her hand still cupped his cheek, his frozen face. She ran her hand through his hair, running her fingers through his untamed strands, brushing them away from his lifeless features.

The tears ran freely down her cheeks, sobbing as she froze, her fingers idly running through his hair. She remembered when he would let her touch him, let her fingers playfully dance across his skin, memorizing every secret his body held, memorizing every single strand of dark hair. Now, those secrets had vanished, he was now so unfamiliar to her touch. He was gone.

She looked away from him, gazed up through the skylight of stars passing by, of planets spinning endlessly through vast amounts of space and time. She had yet to see what most of those unknown worlds possessed, and now she had no desire to, not without him.

"You promised me, Balem," she whispered, voice trembling, "don't you remember? You promised."

Her gaze was unbroken as she watched the sky pass overhead, she found herself lost as she had many times before. She was a dreamer, a lost soul, a star-crossed hopeless girl with no path, as she had been told many times before. In her sorrow, she found a glint of happiness, a hint of humor as she thought about the first time she had met him. It had been anything but joyous at the time, but now it was all she could find to keep her heart beating.

Her eyes reflected a starlit sky above her as she remembered, as she struggled to bury the unbearable pain she had now felt, and a faint smile crept across her lips. She closed her eyes and could see him, could see herself, somewhere far away when their life was innocent, and dreams were just made of stardust.


	2. The End

Arvella couldn't imagine a night more dull than the one she was mentally preparing herself for now. Another several hours of entertaining, dancing, and meddling in affairs in which she had no business in, at least not now. She was only 17, relatively young compared to others of her status, others who took great pride in gloating for how long they had spun around the universe. Arvella felt no such pride, she felt that it did not matter how long one lived if they had nothing to live for. Alas, her words were not taken into consideration for apparently her age also reflected her intelligence, which was another matter she could argue upon for hours.

She gasped as her thoughts were abruptly interrupted and felt as if the very life was being squeezed from her core, causing her to stiffen into a rigid form.

"Now, now, it wasn't that bad," an airy voice sighed behind her, "if one wishes to impress the audience, one must dress for them."

Arvella rolled her eyes upon hearing the distaste in his voice, a tone she had heard far too many times before.

"If one wishes to impress, one must be able to breathe," she replied eloquently through gritted teeth, holding her chin high as she looked ahead, regaining her posture. She gasped once more as the corset was laced even tighter, stumbling as she felt as if she were about to snap in half.

"Breathing comes only second to impressions, dear sister," he reminded her gently, "this is a very important occasion, one that must not be imperfect in any way."

The handmaid rushed around her feet, draping her smooth skin in waves of light satin. She glanced down at the material in which was chosen for her, something that would supposedly only eccentuate her beauty. The gown itself was dazzling, she hated to admit. The material was of a deep blue, one so deep she had gone so far as to saying she had never seen the shade before. It was endless, mesmerizing, one good get lost if it weren't for the other accents. Deep shades of Violet and cobalt swirled together like a nebula, with dazzling encrusted jewels glittering like stars. Arvella tried not to look at herself as she looked up once more, tried not to look at the reflection in the large glass window. Instead, she looked past herself as she had done many times before, and into the vastness of the universe before her.

A canvas of stars stretched beyond the reaches of her vision, the ever stretching arms of far off galaxies reaching into the darkness. They swirled and shimmered, sparkled and spun. She had become so lost in this sights before, had become so entralled in discovering soemthing she had never known. The entire world she lived in, all of the infinite possibilities, it was so-

"Breathtaking," he sighed behind her, stepping up beside Arvella.

She was jolted from her dreaming, forced back into what was her own disappointing reality. The stars faded back into the background, and she had now come face to face with the person she was most dreading to see; herself.

Too short, not thin enough, caked in cosmetics that she had never heard of, dressed up like a pet ready for a show. This wasn't her, not this refined version of what everyone had expected. She glanced at the reflection beside her, none other than her eldest brother, the heir to her family's fortune, Batair Silaverius.

He was what everyone would have thought him to be. Tall, lean, skin of pure ivory, icy-blonde hair that swept in waves and eyes like a golden sun. He was proper, well-trained in all areas of diplomacy, war, and all-around able to get whatever he desired. He stood straight, hands folded behind his back as he looked at the two of them, reflected into the starry sky.

"I believe we are more than ready to handle what is next," Batair smiled slightly, glancing up to his sister confidently, "mother and father will be expecting us any minute, please, do not be late."

Arvella held her gaze with his until he turned to leave, the automatic doors closing behind him with a silent huff. Finished with her work, the handmaid took a step away from Arvella, placing her hands neatly in front of her as she admired her.

"Lord Batair is right," she assured her with a curt nod, "you look simply dazzling in that gown, surely you will turn many heads tonight."

Arvella closed her eyes for a moment, releasing a sigh she had held for far too long. Lifting the edges of her skirt, she carefully stepped off of the pedestal, the long train trailing down after her. Her handmaid chewed at her fingers nervously, surely fearful that Arvella would damage the exquisite gown.

"That is what I fear, Briesis," Arvella spoke, releasing the material gently from her hands, "I do not wish to be a spectacle for others to behold, I just want to be myself."

Arvella opened her eyes, her unhappiness evident through them. She was frightened, no, petrified, of what others might think of her, and more importantly, how they would act.

The handmaid frowned, eyebrows tilting in sympathy as she stepped over to her, reaching out with her hands to hold those of the woman she had grown to know.

"Oh, but you are yourself," Briesis smiled, revealing her short mouse-like teeth, "you don't need to see it, just feel it." She moved one of her hands over Arvella's chest, giving it a few gentle taps over where her heart was.

Arvella couldn't help but smile slightly at her actions, out of all the handmaidens under her family's control she had formed an undeniable bond with Briesis. She had been born into servitude, as her sole purpose was to serve a family of higher class. She was Terran, yes, but her genes had been spliced with those of a common field mouse. Those genes made her quite tidy and quick, not to mention meek and quiet. She obeyed orders as she was told, and usually minded her own business. However, that was not the Briesis she knew.

She had known Briesis since she was a child, having remembered spending more time with her than her actual mother. That was not an uncommon thing to happen, as her mother was a very busy and important woman (so she was reassured several times). Unlike her mother or her father, Briesis had always been there to comfort her, to wipe away her tears, to cheer her on when she was learning how to ride. Briesis was her closest and only friend.

"You're right," Arvella smiled, resting her hand upon Briesis' with a soft sigh.

The older woman smiled, dimples wrinkling at her cheeks as short whiskers curled up. "I am very proud of you, my little star."

Arvella released her hand as Briesis backed away, bowing her head politely as she motioned to the door. "I don't think it is wise to make them wait any longer..."

A sudden dread took a hold of her as she looked to where her maid had gestured, dreading stepping into something she could never prepare herself for. Although Briesis had succeeded in comforting her momentarily, that feeling of safety had left her, she now felt exposed and vulnerable. She wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready to face them.

She frantically flipped her head around to see her maid one more time, but before she could open her mouth to utter any protest, the door slid open once more.

"Did I not tell you not to be late?" Batair sighed dramatically with a roll of his eyes, storming into the room towards his sister, "we're on a very tight schedule, no use in mucking it all up now."

Before Arvella could argue, Batair had already hooked his arm in hers, nearly dragging her out of the room. Arvella stole a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyes pleading for help as she looked onward at Briesis, who was gleefully waving her away.

This was the beginning of the end.

Arvella was whisked through various corridors, her lengthy dress trailing behind her. For once, she was appreciative of the design of this particular one, how the slit in the front allowed her to move quickly without getting caught up in the skirts. How she had managed that, she would never know. Her heels clicked noisily on the black stone floors, keeping in rhythm with her brother's swift strides. She had to admit, she was having some difficulties keeping up with his pace, but she supposed this was one of his ways of punishing her for delaying their arrival.

Before she knew it, they were there, facing a large metallic door with various designs encrusted in it. Planets with rings, ancient looking encryptions like a labyrinth of technology. None of this meant anything to Arvella, as she had never thought to sit and study it. But now, she had wished for a bit more time to look at it, to get lost in the swirling patterns. She wanted to know what it meant, yes, anything than what was to come next.

"Ready?" Batair breathed into her ear, a short smirk lifting at the corner of his lip. He was enjoying this, that bastard.

Arvella was more than ready to bite back with some sort of snarky remark, but her breath hitched as the door suddenly swung open before them. A blinding light streamed across her face as she squinted, freezing like a poor deer in headlights as she stood there, motionless.

"Their brilliances, Lord Batair and Lady Arvella, heirs to the Silaverius Dynasty."

So this was what the end was like.


	3. The Hunt

Laughing, small-talk, whispers, lies. Everything and nothing blurred through his ears, his concentration disintegrating as others flourished in this dressed-up cesspool. His eyes flitted around nervously, suspiciously, a certain paranoia taking hold. He knew none of these people, knew nothing of their intentions or motives. At any moment, one could go off, one could have their own motives to harm, to destroy.

"Balem."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a sudden touch on his shoulder, something that he should have been expecting. He turned his head slightly to be met with a familiar face, one that he had grown to know well.

Seraphi Abrasax, the matriarch of their dynasty, the one sole person he could actually bear speaking to. She smiled faintly, she didn't even have to try. Her lips were painted in the brightest shade of scarlet, her sparkling eyes alive and dancing. She truly looked at ease here, amongst the strangers that danced and mingled amongst one another. Balem did not understand.

"Relax," she spoke, her voice hushed as she nodded slightly to her son, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze.

Balem scanned over her face, his hardened eyes softening at her gesture. She was so calm, so peaceful, everything that he couldn't be. He admired her at times for her posture and grace but more than anything he envied her.

"I don't know any of these people," he told her in hushed words, voice cracking as his eyes flickered to the rest of the crowd.

Seraphi shook her head, removing her hand from Balem's shoulder. "Then change that," she suggested with a raised brow, a short laugh escaping her lips.

Balem opened his mouth to respond, but before he could form the words, his mother had turned away, being whisked off by a rather stately man with striking auburn hair. Balem narrowed his eyes, feeling the rage within him begin to swell. His mother, hitting it off so well with perfect strangers, being whisked away when it was he who needed her most now. He felt trapped, alone, suffocated by the sheer weight of the conversation in the room, he was so out of his element.

"Something the matter, dear brother?" A voice chimed behind him, one that he had hoped not to hear anytime soon.

"Not until you made an appearance," Balem admitted abruptly, turning to face none other than Titus. If it was one thing he hated more than parties, it was his very own brother.

His black robes swirled around his feet, his hands clasping together in front of him almost instinctively. He must carry himself like his mother if he hoped to have any sort of success here.

Titus merely laughed at his remark, despite Balem being absolutely serious. "Ah, just as delightful as always, I see?" Titus remarked, glancing over his attire. "And dressed for a funeral no doubt, you have such questionable tastes, brother."

Balem rolled his eyes, taking in Titus' apparel. He was as flashy as he could be, he had always wanted to make a bold statement wherever he went. Tonight he had chosen a bright red suit, the tails of them lined with platinum and gold. Diamonds encrusted his collar, sapphire rings placed on his fingers.

"At least I don't resemble the color of the rouge the majority of the women here are wearing," Balem remarked, his cold tone matching his stare.

"Must you always be so cruel to me?" Titus smiled, moving up to stand beside him, "as the eldest you must know you are an example to me nonetheless, not some grim foretelling of what I have to look forward to in the future."

Balem continued to look forward, avoiding his brother's stare. It was true, out of the three Abrasax children he was the eldest. There was only a two year difference between himself and his younger sister, Kalique, and five year difference between himself and Titus. Titus had always been pampered and spoiled, brought up to think he was some sort of entitled brat. No, Titus was not the first heir to the Abrasax title, that would be himself. His mother had told him many times that he would inherit nearly everything of what the Abrasax's owned, including her favorite planet. More importantly, Titus knew this, and Balem could use that to his advantage.

"Perhaps if you held yourself in higher regards you would earn more respect," Balem suggested cooly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eager to see his foretold fueled reaction.

"Oh, like mother's?" Titus quipped quickly, flinging his head to face Balem, "I may not be as close to her as you, but at least I'm not still suckling at her teat."

Balem whipped his head in an act of utter frustration, his eyes flashing dangerously as Titus only grinned, clearly pleased with himself. Balem had every notion to hit him, to throw him to the ground, but he held himself back, that was not what mother would do. Instead, he inhaled deeply, opened his mouth to shout, but was interrupted when the crowd grew silent, as the great doors to the entryway began to swing open.

The brother's grew silent with the crowd, gaze fixed to the doors with a certain apprehensive longing. What was happening, who was on the other side? Balem had been given very short notice of this event and had been given very brief information on what to do. As his mother told him; smile, entertain, infiltrate. It had seemed like a simple idea to start but had proven to be an extremely difficult task.

When the doors finally opened, there stood a man and a woman, both who appeared to be around the same age as Balem himself. The man was tall, not as tall as he, but he held himself highly, his white uniform adorned with gold glistening in the light. He had a bright smile, one that seemed all too fake for Balem's liking. He looked as if he had rehearsed this a thousand times over, he looked like a machine going through the motions.

His sharp eyes trailed over to the woman on the man's left, who on the other hand looked completely shell-shocked. Her eyes were wide, frightened like a deer in headlights. She looked petrified, as if she wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. Intriguing. She looked the part, with a dazzling gown and a face to match, but her body-language spoke other wise.

"Their brilliances, Lord Batair and Lady Arvella, heirs to the Silaverius Dynasty."

The crowd applauded, smiles both genuine and fake flooded the room, all except Balem, who clapped slowly as his gaze remained fixated on the woman. He had never heard of the Silaverius', but he imagined this was their party by the entrance they made.

Titus clapped loudly beside him, a beaming smile stretched across his face. He glanced over at Balem and took notice of his gaze, following it to the pair of siblings who now descended down a flight of stairs to the crowd.

"Ah, the Silaverius'," Titus began, "please tell me you did a bit of research on them before attending their own party?"

Balem ignored his brother, not wanting to admit that he hadn't done any of the sort. His siblings and he were dragged to nearly every event their mother was needed to attend, and she must had thought it was important for her heirs to go as well. She told him that making an impression was important to someone like himself, to establish a sort of presence, even at the most mediocre events. He rarely looked into them and only attended because his mother recomended it, and he often learned everything he needed to know just by listening to the gossiping crowds.

"I didn't think so," Titus smirked, glancing from his brother back to the pair. "The eldest brother, Batair, heir to everything the family has. His sister, Arvella, second-in-line to that very fortune."

Balem glanced over to his brother, taking slight interest in what information he had to offer. he hated to admit it, but he was curious to why these strangers were so important, especially to his own dynasty. His brow barely lifted with a sudden interest as he folded his arms across his chest.

"What is it that the Silaverius' make their fortune from?" Balem asked, looking back to the siblings.

"So glad you asked, brother," Titus grinned, puffing up like a proud toad as he knew something his brother didn't. "Look around you, what do you see?"

Balem sighed annoyingly, not willing to put up with one of Titus' games. Seeing as he had no other choice, he allowed his gaze to look lazily around the room, and back to his brother.

"I see three-hundred people with nothing better to do other than to drink and dance," Balem answered stoically, looking to Titus with a rather exasperated expression.

"No, no, no," Titus shook his head, placing a hand on Balem's shoulder, "look beyond all of that, look around us." He moved his hand across them, an unamused Balem following his gesture.

"The ship, this very airship," Titus explained, pointing at the ceiling, "the Silaverius' made their fortune on the design and production of luxury aircraft such as this, not to mention the models you see defending our very homes."

It was amazing how remarkably stupid Balem had felt, how could he not figure that out himself? Of course they would design airships, that was one of the only intelligent conclusions. He shook his shoulder, causing Titus' hand to come loose, having enough of Titus' proximity to him.

He remained silent, looking back to where Batair and Arvella had become lost in the crowd, locking in when he spotted the woman trying to weave her way out of the dozens of people. She looked distressed, panicked like something was following her. He had a notion to help, but before he could make a move, Titus had already caught sight of this fleeting crimson-haired woman.

Titus grinned, stepping away from Balem as he straightened his suit, combed his fingers through his hair as he set his target. Balem knew what his intentions were and shook his head, secretly wanting the poor girl to have a chance to escape before Titus latched onto her. Balem took a step forward in an attempt to halt Titus, but he was too late.

"Like I said, brother, Titus grinned as he spun around to face Balem, backing away quickly, "you need to do your research first."

With that, Titus had begun to weave his way through the crowd, like a tiger stalking its prey through tall grass. He blended in well with this crowd, Balem admitted, and felt that same feeling coming back, the same feeling he had gotten from his mother. He shook his head, looking away, and by the time he searched for his brother once more, he was already gone into the waves of aristocracy, ready to pounce on that poor girl. Balem could only hope she would make it out of there alive and in one piece.


	4. Fleeting Introductions

Arvella held her breath for the longest time, forgetting momentarily how to breathe. She was frozen in place, squinting with watery eyes from the onslaught of the brightness, from the sheer matter that she had been entirely and utterly unprepared for. It took a well-concealed jerk from her brother to force her to step out into the light, to expose her to the uncomfortable warmth that now surrounded them.

Her eyes adjusted slowly, as her senses had become completely overwhelmed. Eyes wide, she slowly looked over the crowd before her, at all of the faces she had never seen before. Her breathing was shallow, her ears felt as if she had spent an hour underwater. This was all too much.

She was knocked from her trance-like state when the room began to applaud, the sound crashing through her head like a million drums sounding off at once. Her ears rang painfully, her eyes flooded with hundreds of hands fluttering. She felt as if she were about to faint when she felt a hand enclose around hers, giving it a tight squeeze. She supposed her brother was trying to be comforting, but to her it felt as if he had placed a shackle around her wrist. He didn't want her to go anywhere.

To her relief, the applause disappeared, but she still found that she was frozen in place. Hundreds of pairs of eyes looking at her, judging her on what first impression she made. She felt like a fish trapped behind glass, all for the amusement of others. She felt stuck, humiliated, and frightened.

Before she could fathom what was happening, she felt her arm being tugged as Batair began to descend down the stairs, into the swarm of socialites. He didn't give her an option and practically dragged her down with him. She could have dug her heels into the ground, thrashed about and screamed for him to release her, but all of that seemed useless now.

She gasped as she was swallowed by the sea of people, drowned out by conversations and whispers. Drunken laughter deafened one ear while the other caught the tail-end of a secret. Her head spun with all of the voices she heard, of all the bits and pieces of words she caught. The variety of colors that surrounded her were deep and vibrant, bright and uncontrollable. It seemed as if every single person here was dressed to impress one another, as if to outdo what they had already done before.

The colors began to mix together, a headache starting to pulsate through her head.

"Ah, there you two are!"

Arvella snapped back into reality as the familiar voice filled her ears and turned her head from the general direction it had come from. It took her a minute, but she finally sorted out the face of her mother from the horde.

She looked as beautiful as she always did, even with her age she was radiant. Her golden hair was swept elegantly over her head, spun around in braids resembling the branches of a tree. Gems of all colors hung from these pieces, giving her a brilliant silhouette.

"Well, just look at you," she beamed, taking Arvella's hands into hers, away from Batair, "you look positively divine."

Arvella looked up into her mother's dark orchid eyes, the woman practically glowing from the sight of her children. She was proud of her, Arvella could tell. Her bright smile glistened in the light, her painted lips dark and lustrous. This was everything her mother had wanted it to be, if only Arvella could say the same thing.

"Thank-you," Arvella replied sheepishly, ducking away from her mother's stare. None of this felt right to her. The guests, the ambiance, the way the room resounded in nothing but joy; there was a tension, and she could feel it.

Her mother released her hands as she looked to her right, where a tall woman stepped up beside her. Her hair was dark, done up in a simple yet elegant manner. Adorned on her head was a golden headpiece, exquisite, but nothing over the top. She appeared rather young, Arvella would almost place her next to her own age, but upon looking into her eyes, she saw something much older, wiser.

"Please, let me introduce Seraphi of the Abrasax dynasty," her other spoke, placing a gentle hand on the arm of the other woman. "These are my children, Batair, and Arvella."

"The Abrasaxes?" Batair intervened, taking a step forward as a sudden interest took hold of him.

He presented himself eloquently, gently taking Seraphi's hand in his own and giving it a light kiss as he bowed, glancing up at her.

"It is an honor to meet such a distinguished character," Batair complimented, straightening as he released her hand, "and might I say you are much more beautiful in person."

Seraphi smiled with a rehearsed curt nod, Arvella could tell she had done this several times before.

Arvella stood there motionless, staring blankly at the woman before her, as she had never heard of the Abrasaxes before. It wasn't until she felt a blaring stare at her that she turned to look at her own mother, who gaze her a quick gesture for her to do the same as her brother had done.

"O-oh," Arvella stuttered, looking as if she had snapped out of a daydream, "it is very nice to meet you." Arvella did a quick curtsy, stumbling slightly as her heel caught the hem of her dress. She quickly recovered, embarrassed, as she heard a few others around her laugh under their breaths, including her own brother's. Fantastic, she had messed this bit up as well.

She straightened up quickly as she avoided Seraphi's gaze, quickly brushing a strand of her claret hair behind her ear out of habit. She didn't want to meet this woman's gaze, didn't want to see the unimpressed look that would read in her eyes. Yet, something drew her to them, a force that was undeniably irresistible.

Arvella dropped her hand away from her hair slowly, her eyes flickering up to Seraphi. Instead of being met with utter disgust, she was met with a look of amusement, a bit of playfulness dancing in her eyes. She was smiling brilliantly as if she had just seen something so joyous she was about to burst.

Needless to say, Arvella was confused.

"Charmed, really," Seraphi replied, her voice silky as she laughed slightly, "what beautiful heirs you have, Fanara, absolutely splendid."

Arvella glanced over to her mother, who seemed fit to burst with pride. Clearly impressing this Abrasax woman was on her mind, and it seemed as if she had succeeded in one aspect.

Seraphi placed her hands neatly in front of her, taking a step back from Arvella and her brother.

"You two really must meet my children," she insisted with a small smile, "I think the lot of you would truly get along quite well."

Children? Arvella was stunned. This woman, who looked no older than herself, had children? It was plausible, of course, but they must had been young.

Batair nodded his head, giving another short bow as he flashed another one of his signature grins.

"It would be our honor," he responded, giving a glance over to his sister, expecting some sort of confirmation from her.

Arvella took a deep breath, ready to respond with an expectant answer. She parted her lips but hesitated when a sudden feeling of dread took hold of her. She stopped, frozen as the images around her began to swirl, began to contort into odd forms. Her hearing deafened as she looked around, everything halting as if the world were set into slow motion. She could see her brother trying to speak to her, but nothing came out of his mouth. She began to hear things, voices she had never heard before, whispers in every corner of her mind.

"Arvella? Are you alright dear?" Her mother spoke, placing a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder, "Arvella, what's the matter?"

She snapped her head quickly back to her mother, eyes wide with terror as she backed away, moving out of her touch. Something was wrong, something here did not feel right. She stumbled backward, so eager to find an exit, any way to get out of here, away from these people.

"Arvella, have you gone mad?" Her brother barked, turning to face the distraught girl.

"I-I have to go," she stammered, placing a hand to her head as it began to throb once more, "I-I don't feel well...sorry."

With that she spun around, gown swirling at her feet as she shuffled through the crowd. She didn't want to push anyone, didn't want to shove, but she needed to escape. She breathed heavily as she twisted and turned, uttering short apologies under her breath. As she wove herself deeper into the sea of guests, it appeared as if there were truly no escape.

She panicked, felt her lungs tighten as she gasped for air, the people around her nearly squeezing the life out of her. She became frantic, quickened her pace as she tried to push through, nearly suffocating in the heavy perfumes that mixed and putrefied.

She received a number of dirty looks, glances of confusion and stares of concern. She ignored them all, the exit the only true thing on her mind. She nearly sighed with relief as she spotted a set of golden doors on the other side of the room, so close yet so far out of her reach. If she just pushed a little further, just a few more steps...

"Are you alright, miss?"

Arvella nearly ran into the gentleman that spoke to her, as he seemed to manifest out of thin air before her. She stopped, giving him a quick look before craning her neck to look over his shoulder at the doors, itching to break through them.

"Yes, perfectly fine," Arvella nodded quickly, taking a step to his side as a means to keep moving, "I just need some air."

"Isn't it a little rude to leave your own party only minutes after you arrive?" The man spoke once more, sidestepping to block her path.

Arvella narrowed her eyes in frustration, seeing as he was the only thing standing between her and her freedom, she wasn't about to put up with that.

"Oh, but it's not my party," Arvella corrected, flashing him a fake smile as she stepped to the other side, hurrying to try and get past him.

To her dismay, the man stepped in front of her once more, and somehow she knew there was no escaping this. She took a step back, straightening her posture as she tried to relax, taking a deep breath as she faced her pursuer.

The man was young, slightly taller than herself, and was wearing perhaps the brightest shade of scarlet she had ever seen. It nearly hurt her eyes looking at him, so she focused on his placid face instead. He was handsome, she supposed, with thick, dark beige hair that swept neatly to one side. His eyes were perhaps his most interesting feature, as they were a striking hazel.

"I'm sorry if I seem a little forward," the man spoke, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "but the moment I saw you I knew I had to meet you." He reached out and took her hand in his, bowing low as he placed a kiss on the top of her hand. A gesture like this would have made any woman swoon before him, but to Arvella only a feeling of dread filled her.

"I am Titus, third heir to the Abrasax dynasty," the man spoke, straightening as he still held her hand in his.

Abrasax. There was that name again. Titus spoke his name as if it held some sort of power, something that would make her drop and kiss his feet. A name was a name, it was how one carried it that held some worth. She wondered if he were the sibling to Seraphi, for they appeared to be the same age. A thought crossed her mind, that perhaps this was Seraphi's child, but she quickly shook her head as that was ridiculous, she wasn't nearly old enough to be his mother.

"Pleasure, I'm sure," Arvella replied, glancing down at their holding hands. She quickly snatched hers away, feeling rather uncomfortable with the situation already. She had never met this man before and would do anything to get away from him.

"Oh, no need to introduce yourself," Titus laughed, retreating his own hand to his side, "I know exactly who you are, Arvella." His gaze wandered from her face, down her body as if he were taking in every bit. His eyes wandered back up slowly, a smirk creeping across his lips.

"Might I add, you look simply stunning."

Arvella wanted nothing more than to just simply disappear and to retreat back to her quarters. She wanted to go home, wanted to return to her books and stables. This was no place for her, no place among these riches and hierarchies.

"T-thanks," she stuttered, faking another grin, "but I really must g-"

She was cut short when the sound of music began to fill the air, a beautiful piece on a violin, accompanied soon by an array of other beautiful instruments. Like clockwork, gowns began to swirl as couples began to dance, the room becoming a swirl of vibrant silks.

"Would you spare me this quick dance?" Titus interrupted, taking hold of Arvella's hands, "it would be an honor to dance with none other than a Silaverius heir, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself."

Before Arvella could protest, she was led into a waltz by Titus, his hand resting on her waist as hers with default fell to his shoulder. He swirled her around, his steps so precise, so well-practiced.

"Oh, I don't dance," Arvella laughed nervously, looking down at her own feet. Her steps were out of place, out of rhythm, and before she knew it she had already stepped on his foot.

Titus winced noticeably but covered it up well as he merely smiled even brighter at her, leading her across the floor.

"Don't worry, just follow my lead," Titus told her in hushed words, leaning closer so he was merely inches from her face.

Arvella looked up at him sheepishly, looking into his chestnut eyes. She couldn't get lost in them, couldn't see past a glassy look she got from them. Something about him was off, a certain artificial feeling she couldn't get past. Something was wrong, she shouldn't be here.

She looked away quickly, leaning back as she observed the others spinning, laughing, enjoying themselves. She was anything but enjoying herself, she needed to go.

She stopped so abruptly in her tracks that it sent her partner off, causing him to stumble in his perfection. She pried herself away from him, looking to Titus apologetically as he recomposed himself, sending a cold glare in her direction.

Arvella had no time for apologies, no time for goodbyes, and before he could snatch her back up, she rushed past him and back into the shifting pairs of dancers. She barely heard the music as she rushed past them, didn't hear the cries from Titus as he beckoned her back. She dare not look over her shoulder, dare not see the look on his face.

She spotted her target once more and this time moved with more aggression, more grace. She stumbled forward, nearly falling, but caught herself as she fell onto the doors. She fumbled for the release knob, pressing a shaky hand against it as the doors opened with a hiss. She nearly fell through it, so desperate for her solitude, so desperate to get away from them.

She wasn't going back.


	5. Starlight

Balem was growing rather bored. Arms crossed, foot tapping in a frantic, off-beat manner, he scanned the room with unamused eyes. He winced as the music started, his ears being filled with the utterly joyous tune being played out. 

This was dreadful.

He stepped back, out of the crowds of people beginning to dance and swirl, the women giggling with glee as their partners twirled them around. He rolled his eyes, pressing his back against the wall with a dramatic sigh, he was ready to leave. Whatever had possessed him to stare aimlessly at the crowd was beyond his idea, but as he watched, a certain pair caught his eye.

His brother was easy to spot among them, spinning about like a bright red apple. He looked ridiculous but apparently to the other party-goers he fit right in. Balem glanced down at his own attire, at the plain colors he had chosen to wear. Black with a splash of grey, a bit of gold lining adorning his silks. He hated standing out, being spotted, but he was starting to think it might have been a mistake, as he was clearly the one standing out. Black was always elegant, as his mother had always told him.

He focused back on the sight of his brother, shaking his head as he noticed the woman he was carelessly spinning about. Her dress moved gracefully, the jewels upon it glistening like stars, it reminded him of the endless sky. His eyes trailed upwards from her stumbling feet, to her delicate face framed by claret curls. He found himself staring, found himself studying her distraught face, her subtle features twisted with a certain fear.

He brought a hand up to his lips, pressing his thumb to them as he watched them weave in and out between the other couples, Titus' face was calm and collected. There was no secret to what his brother's intentions were with the girl. She came from money, power, from a fortunate dynasty different from their own. Titus could easily snatch her up for himself, eventually climbing to the top. Of course, his brother's schemes usually ended with abrupt and utter failure, so Balem had very low hopes for him and he was glad.

"Has something caught your eye, brother?"

Balem was jolted out of his thoughts when the sickeningly sweet voice filled his ears and turned to meet the source of it.

Kalique had nearly appeared out of thin air, her flowing white dress swirling around her in tufts, nearly five times wider than she was. She always had a soft spot for fluffy things, including her ball gowns. The gown was splashed in cool palettes of rose and an icy-blue, mixing with a certain girlish giddiness. She folded her hands in front of her neatly, wide eyes bright and expecting to her elder brother.

"How could Titus' blaring suit not?" Balem answered coldly, flicking his eyes back to the dancing Titus.

Kalique giggled slightly at his response, Balem was not seeing what was so funny about his honesty. He found her laugh to be annoying, but at least she was slightly more bearable than Titus.

"I think you and I both know it was not Titus you were staring at," she prompted with a short wink, "she's very lovely, I've never seen her before. I just met her brother, Batair, he's a very noble gentleman."

Balem could feel the heat rise in his cheeks, not because of what she spoke was true, but because he was embarrassed that she would suggest such a notion. He certainly wasn't smitten with this Silaverius girl, he was merely interested in her apparent distaste for his brother who she had known for less than a minute now. Seeing someone detest Titus (besides himself, of course) filled him with a warmth that he couldn't describe.

"Don't be ridiculous," Balem spat, refusing to look his sister in the eye, "just look at her, she's falling over her own feet, clearly she isn't suitable for this style of life."

"But neither are you, brother," Kalique quipped quickly, raising a knowing brow, "just look at you, secluded in this corner of yours over here, you want nothing to do with this party, do you?"

Balem rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pretending to ignore what Kalique had suggested. Sure, he didn't like the swarms of giddy people all crammed into a room, he didn't like the airy atmosphere either, but he was suited for this lifestyle, bred for it. A bit of rage swelled in him as doubt began to take over. He wasn't a socialite like Titus or Kalique, wasn't loud like the two of them either. He didn't have the forward courtesies of his mother, but he had her intelligence, her well-kept temper, and her undeniable grace. He was an Abrasax, through and through, and that was more than he could ask for.

"Oh! Would you look at that!" Kalique suddenly shouted, a bit surprised as her eyes followed someone retreating rather quickly through the crowd, "it looks as if Titus has frightened another one away."

Balem barely heard Kalique's laugh as his head snapped forward, eyes immediately latching onto the sight of the fleeting girl with the starry dress. She was moving quickly, frantically, stumbling and pushing as if she were trying to escape. She reminded him of an animal trapped underwater, struggling to the surface for air to breathe. She was so panicked, so flustered, and so strange.

Balem couldn't help but smirk, his eyes brightening from the sight of Titus being figuratively left in the dust. He deserved that more than anything, he had to learn that he could not obtain everything that he desired no matter what. He had to give credit to the girl, not all those who met face-to-face with Titus actually made it out in one piece.

He held a satisfied smirk as Titus stormed over to the pair of siblings, the mania twisted into his features.

"Dear Titus, why ever is your face the same shade as your suit?" Kalique asked innocently, raising a hand to hide the wide smile she now wore on her face.

Titus snapped his head to Kalique, narrowing his eyes into a glare that would turn even a Basilisk to stone. He raked his fingers through his hair, a pathetic act to stay calm, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath.

"She's simply miserable," he declared, the tension seeping through his voice, "she can't dance, can't hold a conversation, and gets distracted much too easily."

"Perhaps it was the company she held, brother, that made her feel so uneasy," Balem finally spoke, his smirk still smeared across his lips, "it wouldn't be the first time a woman has retreated from your arms."

Titus flicked his attention back to Balem, his stare heated, teeth gritted with fury. If it was one thing Titus hated, it was the admittance of defeat. He had lost this girl, no matter how much he would deny it, and Balem knew that was his very weakness. Balem enjoyed this more than anything, to see his brother in such disarray. He had made so many cruel jabs at him throughout his life, calling Balem an assortment of things. It was his turn now to play his part of the "cruel eldest brother" time to give Titus a taste of how cruel he could really be.

"At least I have company," Titus hissed through his teeth, "these people, they look up to me. I'm admired, looked at as an equal if not more. No matter how you look at it Balem, it is you who does not belong here."

Balem's smirk quickly dissipated, his face hardened with contempt. His nostrils flared as his breathing became shallow, deep. He couldn't let Titus get to him once more, couldn't let Titus turn this dilemma on himself. He remained silent, lost for words on what to tell him, how to snap back.

"You might as well go find mother," Titus leered, a smile creeping onto his lips, "she's apparently the only woman whose company you can keep."

Kalique gave Titus a quick kick in the ankle, causing Titus to wince with pain. He turned his glare to his sister before looking back to Balem, a golden victory dancing in his eyes.

Balem stiffened, feeling his eyes well up with tears. No, he couldn't be seen like this, couldn't show Titus he had succeeded. In a flurry of black silk, Balem whipped around, his ebony cloak whipping behind him like a storm cloud.

"Now look at what you've done," Kalique spat at Titus, "you've ruined a perfectly good family moment."

Balem did not know where he was going and did not know where his anger would lead. He blinked away tears, shoving past crowds powerfully, muscling his way out of the room. Angry gasps and shouts filled his ears, the sounds of wine glasses crashing to the ground around him. He ignored them all and didn't hear anything; he just wanted out.

He came to a set of double doors and pried them open with brute strength, ignoring the control panel. He stormed into the corridor, his black cape whipping around him with a snap. He clenched his fists, tightened his jaw, a single tear trickling down his cheek. No, he wouldn't let Titus do this to him, not now.

With a primal shout, he slammed his fists against a metallic wall, sending a loud crash echoing across the hall. He didn't even feel the pain radiating through his shaking hands, didn't feel the blood trickling down his knuckles. His entire body shook with silent sobs, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the wall, trying his best to calm himself down.

"A-are you alright?"

Balem furrowed his brows upon hearing the voice, something so foreign that he couldn't decide whether it had been real or not. He opened his eyes, turning his head to the source of the concern, blinking away tears as he focused on a girl, the girl in the sparkling gown; the Silaverius girl.

There she was wedged onto a window ledge, legs propped up comfortably in front of her, bare and smooth. Her gown draped across her elegantly even as she sat, pooling below her like a sea of stars. Her feet were now bare, her abandoned heels lying against the opposite wall. She looked rather comfortable lying there, back rested against the window, holding a book in her hand.

He was completely dumbfounded, more so surprised really, to see someone else here, away from the party. He didn't expect to run into anyone, and company was the last thing he desired at the moment. He didn't wish for anyone to see him in such a vulnerable and deplorable state.

Before Balem could stop himself, he found himself nodding, unable to find the words. He took a long, dark sleeve and wiped away his tears quickly, hoping the woman hadn't seen them. He looked away from her, avoided her eyes, ashamed he had behaved in such an unruly manner.

"Oh...you're hurt," the girl observed, causing Balem to look at his own bleeding knuckles, "it's alright...I don't bite, let me look at them."

Balem looked back up to her, narrowing his eyes at her proposal. He was hesitant to trust her, hesitant to approach. He watched as she placed her reading material into her lap, dropping her legs from the ledge as she sat up, patting the now free spot beside her.

Balem was mistrustful, to say the least. He stared at her for the longest time, looking back from his bleeding hands. He couldn't go back into the party looking like this when he did go back. Seeing as his options were limited, and he really saw no negative side to the situation, he strode over to her, quickly taking a seat beside her.

The woman offered him a small smile, one that seemed genuine to him, compared to all of the fake ones he had seen that night. He avoided her eyes as she looked at him, her eyes drifting down to his hands.

Hesitantly, she lifted her hands, placing them gently on his own as she turned them over, looking at the broken skin that still bled scarlet. Her touch was gentle, warm, comforting in some way. He watched her carefully, still untrusting of her actions and was ready to spring at any second if she dare try anything.

"I'm Arvella," she finally spoke as she turned over his hands, "although you probably already know that..."

Balem hesitated, moving his eyes to her hands as she looked over the wounds. He was startled when he noticed a feature he had not noticed from afar, something he could not believe he hadn't caught on in the room. Upon her pale skin were very faint markings, swirls of lavender and light shades of blue that barely tinted her skin. There were only a few markings, and they seemed to shimmer in the light, a distinguishing pattern he had never seen before on someone's skin. He followed the pattern up her bare arms, across her shoulders, where they lightly trailed up her neck and faded onto her cheek. His eyes finally fell upon hers, being met with a striking shade of violet deep within them.

Her pale face was lined with dark crimson curls, her hair falling in tresses behind her back. The markings were on either side of her face as well, her forehead dotted with sparkling cobalt and amethyst jewels.

"Your markings..." He finally spoke, his voice a hushed whisper. It was the only thing he could think of saying as he became lost in those intricate designs.

He had never seen anything like her. She was so...unusual.


	6. Galaxies

Lungs fit to burst, Arvella felt as if she were about to collapse. Nearly falling through the doors, she felt an instant sensation of relief as they shut behind her, the sounds of the party dissipating behind her. She stood there for a moment, simply breathing, taking in long breaths as she closed her eyes. It was over, she was never going back in there.

She felt as her nerves began to calm and her body started to relax. She didn't know why she had gotten so anxious, why everything had started to come down so quickly. There were too many people, too many expectant eyes leering at her, judging her. She wasn’t meant for this sort of thing, to be paraded around like a show pony. She was so much more than that- didn't they know?

She found the courage to take a couple steps forward only to find herself tripping and wobbling in her horrible heels. In an act of frustration, she was finally fed up and ripped them off of her feet and threw them across the hall, hitting the wall with a bang.

That would do.

She smiled slightly, a bit of rebellion taking hold of her as she padded down the hall in her bare feet. She didn't need those over-the-top shoes, didn't need the extravagance of others, she just needed to be herself. She glanced around the hall, looking at the tall bay windows that lined them.

She walked slowly, methodically, taking her time as she stared out at the expanse of the universe, out at the billions of stars that lit up the sky. It was so extraordinary out there, so free.

So out of her reach.

She dropped her head to the ground once more, staring at her feet as she walked, feeling her gown trail the ground lazily behind her. It was a shame she couldn't do it more justice, couldn't show it off like it needed to be. It was such a lovely gown, and she could never wear it again.

She stopped and stared out the window once more, realizing that she really had nowhere else to go. She glanced around, just to be sure she truly was alone and quickly took a seat on the window's ledge. She swung her legs up, tucking them against her chest as she stared out into the vastness once more. It was ironic how her family had built a legacy on ship design and how she had traveled so little. There were so many more planets out there to explore, so many more people to meet. She felt as if she were already running out of time, there certainly weren't enough years to see everything.

A sigh escaped her throat as she looked away, remembering something she had managed to tuck away. She looked around once more, ever so cautiously, and from the top of her dress plucked a small, golden, rectangular disk. With a touch of her finger, it expanded into a large version of itself, unfolding quickly into her hands. With another swipe, a hologram appeared before her where a text began to stream before her eyes.

There was always time for a good book.

She grinned like a cat who had just stumbled upon a saucer of cream, beginning to hungrily devour the words before her. If it was one thing she could agree with doing, it was reading.

She had just gotten into it, lost in another world unlike her own, when suddenly a loud crash nearly made her stumble off of the ledge. The book shot out of her hands as if it had jumped on its own, landing on her lap.

Nearly a second later, a horrible, heart-wrenching scream followed, echoing down the corridor.

Arvella was certain she had just been a witness to a terrible crime.

She bit her lip, terrified to even look down the corridor, petrified to see the source of the terrible sounds. Someone had been killed, she knew there was a reason she didn't enjoy going to parties.

It took every ounce of courage to peek out behind her ledge, picking up her book and clutching it close to her chest. She treated it as if it were a shield, something to protect her in case they came for her next.

What she saw, however, was something she had not expected to see.

He was draped in shadows, clothed in dark secrets that billowed onto the floor. His head and fists laid against the wall, body quivering in defeat. At first, she thought he was angry, about to smash a whole straight through the titanium walls.

Then, she listened.

Quiet sobs filled the hall, a sound so sincere it made her heart ache. This man, whoever he was, was in pain.

"A-are you alright?" She asked nervously, tapping her fingers against the book.

She froze as the man grew quiet, straightened out as he turned his head to face her. He was crying, she could tell that much, as his pale, freckled cheeks were wet with tears. The faint starlight coming through the windows almost gave his skin a luminescent look, as if he were so delicate, so fragile.

He quickly nodded, making a quick notion to wipe his eyes on long, black sleeves. Arvella watched as a few drops of blood fell to the floor, following them up she found that his hands had been bloodied. Putting two and two together, she found that he must have been the source of the banging she had heard.

"Oh...you're hurt," Arvella piped up, gesturing to his knuckles. She bit her lip, looking at the ledge she had perched on, and decided that she needed to do the right thing, or at least try to.

She slid her legs off of the ledge, placing her book in her lap as she patted the spot beside her. The man looked at her as if she had gone absolutely insane, and she was starting to regret this already.

"It's alright...I don't bite," she insisted with a small smile, patting the spot once more, "let me look at them."

Perhaps she was being too forward, too friendly, but she couldn't just let him stand there and bleed like that. She knew if she were in his shoes, she'd want someone to help her, especially if they had a party to go back to.

The man looked at his hands, and back to her, Arvella could tell he was seriously thinking this over. Although she didn't blame him, after all, she was a complete stranger. She couldn't say she would do the same if someone offered her help, especially if it were he who was offering it. He was strange, frightening in some way, but completely innocent in another.

Arvella was certainly surprised when he came billowing over rather quickly, the clothing behind him like a torrent of smoke. The way he moved was so quiet, so powerful as if he held some sort of higher power to him. He quickly took a seat beside her, refusing to look at her in every which way. Arvella frowned, glancing down at his bleeding hands.

With a slight tremble, she reached out and gently took his hands in hers, nearly jumping back upon feeling the coolness of their touch. She caught him glancing up at her and offered him a reassuring smile, one that hopefully came across that she wasn't about to slice his throat.

She carefully turned them over in her hands, her breathing light as she observed the cuts and scrapes on them. He hadn't hit that wall lightly and it had done a small number on his delicate hands.

The silence between them was certainly unnerving, and Arvella thought it might be best to put some of her common courtesy to use for a change.

"I'm Arvella," she introduced, suddenly feeling stupid that she had said such a thing. They had already announced her and her brother's name upon entering the room, of course he knew her name.

"Although you probably already know that..."

She expected him to introduce himself next, but what came next was entirely unexpected. She furrowed her brows, confused, glancing over at him as she watched his eyes trail up her arm to her face.

At that moment, everything stopped.

There she was, staring into his emerald eyes, an unexpected yet brilliant color. Everything about him was so dark, so black and white, and yet his eyes were entirely-

"Your markings..." The man finally whispered in a clear, ghostly voice, enraptured in what was her skin.

Arvella couldn't help but laugh suddenly, her lips parting as she smiled widely. She could tell this threw the man off guard, causing him to lean back with slight confusion, a brow raised.

"Oh, these," she smiled, glancing down at her arms as she still held his hands, "I was born with them, don't worry."

She glanced back up at him, half-expecting the confusion to go away, but, it still remained.

"But aren't you..."

"Terran?" Arvella finished, knowing exactly where he was getting at now. She had never had to explain this to anyone before, but she had a feeling that time would come soon enough.

"I'm from a planet called Cenus," she began to explain, turning her focus back to his injured hands, "our planet was once a part of a very advanced empire, one known as Ulthoria."

She glanced around for something to wrap his hand as she spoke, biting her lip as she thought. Finding that there wasn't anything available, she lifted up the hem of her dress.

"The Ulthorians were a species known for having iridescent skin of various hues," she explained, tearing off a piece of her gown, "when Terrans inhabited what is now Cenus, our species interbred, creating the new strand you now see today."

With that, she began to wrap up each hand, careful not to cause him more harm. She glanced up at him, finding that he was watching her carefully, his face a bit stricken as he looked upon the beautiful glittering fabric now encasing his hands.

"Which is why my skin is a mixture of the two," Arvella smiled as she finished off her final wrap, releasing his hands from hers, "it's really not that interesting, it's sort of like your freckles in a way."

The man looked pretty confused once more, but the understanding began to show in his eyes. He lifted a hand, turning it over to review her handiwork, hopefully, he was pleased enough.

"I think you owe me a name now," she teased with a small shrug, "I don't just do this sort of thing for free."

"Balem," he answered, glancing up from his hands as he cracked the tiniest of smiles, "Balem Abrasax."

"Abrasax?" She replied almost instantly, disbelief filling her voice once more. She couldn't believe she had been faced with yet another one; what were the chances? She studied his face, her smile vanishing. She tilted her head, examining every feature, every line. He did somewhat resemble the man she had just danced with, Titus, yet she saw the same distinguishing eyes of the woman she had met before. Her same hair, her same eyes.

It couldn't be.

"Yes?" Balem inquired, his face now reading simple confusion. His smile that had appeared only briefly was now gone, leaving his lush lips slightly parted.

Arvella shook her head, leaning away as she placed a hand to her head. She was doing it again, wasn't she?

"Oh, sorry," she apologized, lowering her hand as she dodged a headache, "it's just, I keep hearing that name over and over again tonight. It's like I can't escape it."

A chill ran down her spine as Balem released a breathy laugh, catching sight of his unnaturally white teeth.

"I saw you had indeed escaped my brother," he mentioned, glancing over at the double doors, "I do not believe he was impressed in the slightest."

It was Arvella's turn to laugh as she looked away sheepishly, moving a hand to mess with a lock of her hair. She hadn't been embarrassed at the time, but now that she had thought about it, she must have looked like a complete fool. She felt her cheeks turning hot as she avoided Balem's stare, looking instead out of the window beside her.

"Oh, so Titus is your brother," she mused, smiling faintly, "I'll have to remember to send him an apology for cutting our dance so short...I just, it was all too much for me."

She frowned and let out a sigh, shutting her eyes as she thought about the room, the crowd, the noise. It was too much for her senses, too much for her delicate mind to handle. She was overwhelmed, unprepared for such an event, for all of the whispers and voices that rattled in her head.

"Do not bother yourself with such trivial matters," Balem instructed with a curt nod, "this was not the first time my brother's advances have been abnegated. He deserves this every once in awhile, it keeps him grounded."

Arvella turned her back to Balem, her subtle smile returning. Clearly there was something going on between the two of them and whatever it was it didn't sound very loving. She glanced over his face once more, getting the feeling of utter contempt coming from him. his jaw had tightened, eyes flaring for a moment, and then his features softened, relaxed.

There was certainly some tension.

"I also met your sister," Arvella added, hoping his relationship with her wasn't as terrible as the one he held with Titus.

"Kalique?" Balem responded, his eyes fleeting with a slight interest.

Arvella raised a brow, clearly baffled.

"No...Seraphi," she replied, the uncertainty wavering in her voice. It was then she knew she was sorely mistaken, and that Serpahi was not all that she appeared to be.

She watched as Balem's jaw clenched upon hearing her name, looking away uneasily from Arvella. He laced his fingers together in his lap, staring at the floor for the longest time, the silence nearly deafening her.

"Seraphi is my mother," he finally admitted, a certain contempt to his voice.

Arvella couldn't say she was completely shocked, as she had foreseen this somehow. When she had mentioned her children, she had thought them to be much younger, nothing around her age. It started to make sense though, except for the fact that his mother was completely and entirely flawless, unaged, unlike her own mother.

"I'm sorry,” she apologized quickly, holding her hands up in defense, "I was mistaken, it's just that she looks so-"

"Young?" Balem interrupted abruptly, turning his head slowly so his emerald eyes met Arvella's.

There was a sadness in his tone, one that echoed the loneliness that read in his eyes. Something was the matter, something was bothering him deeply, and yet he would not utter the words.

She nodded her head plainly in reply, finding herself becoming lost in reading his gaze. She wanted to find out what was troubling this man, what could have been the secret meddled deeply into his voice. So many whispers under his skin, so many truths that had not been spoken.

He parted his lips to speak once more, but was interrupted when the sound of automatic doors hissed open.

Simultaneously, the two of them peeked around the window, Balem looking over his shoulder as Arvella craned her neck to see who it was. She felt her heart begin to race in her chest, hoping it was not someone coming to drag her back to that horrible place.

The figure that approached moved gracefully like a ghost, making no sound as she glided on the reflective floors. Her elegant white dress trailed behind her, black designs woven intricately in the fabric.

She was beautiful.

Arvella stared at her, breathless, watching Seraphi as she smiled effortlessly at the two, pausing before them.

"I was starting to wonder what happened to the both of you," she smiled grandly, "Titus had told me you both took off."

Arvella bit her lip nervously, unsure of what the consequence would be for leaving one's own party. She wasn't sure how this woman would act, especially since Arvella had been caught with her son. It wasn't like they were doing anything unacceptable, she was only trying to help him.

"I-" Balem started, before Arvella leaned forward and chimed in.

"I wasn't feeling well," she blurted out, looking to Balem quickly before looking to Seraphi, "I needed to get some air, Balem wanted to make sure I was alright."

Seraphi raised her brows with interest, her smile spreading knowingly. She eyed the two of them with dancing jeweled eyes, looking from Arvella to her son's own hands.

Arvella gulped, glancing down at his haphazardly bandaged hands, a sudden feeling of dread overcoming her. Now her story seemed completely null, and surely Seraphi would be angered. She braced herself, ready to be called out on her lie, until-

"Oh, I see," Seraphi breathed, a wide grin on her lips, "I was never a fan of parties when I was your age. They can become a bit...overwhelming."

Arvella breathed a silent sigh of relief as she nodded, glad that Seraphi understood. Arvella was a bit surprised that she had not mentioned Balem's injury, but she would take what she could get. There was something about this woman that was comforting, motherly, something that made her instantly calm an already tension-inducing room.

"Now, I am not going to expect you to return," she continued, neatly folding her hands in front of her, "but I do believe it is considered bad etiquette to not attend one's own birthday celebration."

Balem flicked his head from his mother back to Arvella, giving her a bewildered look. Arvella shrugged slightly, as she had failed to mention it had in fact been her birthday.

Seraphi breathed a short laugh in response from her son's reaction, placing a hand neatly to cover her mouth.

"So humble," she commented, smiling to Arvella, "as to not mention the reason why we have all gathered."

She felt her cheeks growing bright red once more, feeling Balem's stare heatedly on her face. She didn't like the attention, didn't like the fact that they were now so interested in her. For a moment, she wished she had not aided Balem, and yet another part of her didn't regret it at all.

Balem looked away from her quickly, rising to his feet and stepping to his mother's side. Such an action made Arvella feel as if she had frightened him away, wondering what she had done. She stood up next, letting her dress fall to the floor, the two tears in it were barely noticeable, but the hem had come up just slightly.

Seraphi eyed her dress, looking up until she came across her face once more. "Don't worry, dear," she reassured her, "it’s still a beautiful gown."

Arvella wanted to crouch down and disappear completely, but she held herself highly, at least tried to as Balem and Seraphi did themselves.

She smiled lightly, glancing back over to Balem who appeared to be sheepishly avoiding her gaze, but eventually met her glance once more, holding it for a few moments.

He offered her a fleeting smile, one that she would have missed if she had blinked, but she caught it and exchanged one in return. A wave of relief came over her, the thought that he wasn't angered brought her a bit of joy, one that she could not place. Why it mattered to her, she did not know, but that feeling stuck with her.

"I would recommend putting your shoes back on as well," Seraphi chuckled, "I wouldn't want you drawing any unwanted attention."

Arvella had nearly forgotten about those dreaded shoes and quickly strode to fetch them, holding them loosely in her grasp.

"Th-thank-you," she was finally able to utter, a bright smile crossing her face, "I will be back shortly, do not worry."

With that, she watched as Seraphi turned to leave, back to the doors that had separated them from the madness. Balem waited a few moments, looking once more over Arvella, his gaze softening to one of gratitude.

When he turned to leave, it did not leave Arvella with that emptiness she had once known, it did not leave her with a sense of loss. For some reason, she had a feeling this would not be the last time she would come face-to-face with Balem, the secretive heir to the Abrasax dynasty.

And she was right.

——

As Balem entered the room full of boisterous guests, he glanced down at his wounded hands. He turned them over, admiring the shimmering material that had been tied so carefully, at the swirling galaxies that now held his shattered skin. She had kept him together, had shielded him from his physical wounds; she had damaged her beautiful gown.

He was puzzled, unsure of why someone would do such a thing, especially for someone they had never met before. A random act of kindness, this idea was foreign to him. He debated this for quite some time, getting lost in the sea of swirls, the sparkling stars now held in his hands.

With a soft smile, he closed his hands, keeping the material close to himself. He had secretly hoped that this would not be the last thing he would see from her, would not be the last action to remember her by.

And he was right.


	7. The Proposition

Poised, proper, eloquent. Back straight, heels together, hands neatly clasped together. Chin up, eyes forward, smile. She repeated those phrases in her head over and over again, trying desperately to remember what she had been taught. Smile wider? No. Too eager. She fidgeted with her hands, starting to grow nervous with every passing second. No, no fidgeting.

She stopped herself, tightly lacing her fingers within themselves, glancing over to see her brother standing beside her. He was so well-disciplined, so stiff, his face pleasant yet so serious. He was calm, collected, and acted as if had done this a thousand times before. This was just another day to him.

Arvella was envious.

She looked away, trying to throw all of those doubts out of her head, all of the thoughts that told her she wasn't good enough, wasn't as flawless as her brother. She couldn't let all those years of lessons go to waste, she had been trained for a reason.

She was an heir.

She felt herself straighten up better, felt a jolt of confidence as she held herself in higher regard. She was poised, proper, eloquent, just like her brother and parents before her.

She was a Silaverius.

Her eyes flickered over to her parents in front of her, both mirroring how her and her brother stood slightly behind them. They had done this many times before, and now it was her turn to continue on tradition. She admired how still they were, like statues, how beautiful they looked under the beams of sunlight that poured through the skylights. Stunning, their own markings shimmered on iridescent skin. As she admired their brilliance, getting lost in their elegance, she caught a sudden movement in the corner of her eye.

They approached them from the arched entrance, four shadows against a bright background. They strode confidently, dauntingly, and Arvella felt her breath hitch in her throat. She wanted so desperately to look away, but something trapped her gaze to them, something wouldn't let her go.

Arvella eyed the group carefully, watching as they all paused before her family. Her gaze drifted over the others, pausing when she reached the tallest of them. Balem hadn't changed at all over the years, perhaps he had gotten a bit taller. He appeared calm, and collected, palms neatly pressed together before him, a black cloak lined with a silvery blue material stretched around him. His ebony suit was lined with metallic beads, a deep v revealing part of his toned chest.

She caught herself staring, and moved on to his other siblings, coming next to someone she had hoped not to see. Titus. He wore a deep orchid suit, a black scarf wrapped around his neck, a smug smirk crossed upon his face as he caught her stare. She quickly looked away, moving her eyes to a woman she had only briefly met.

Arvella could only assume this was Kalique, the only sister of the Abrasaxes. She was certainly beautiful and young, a bright look about her face as she stood there beaming, a beacon of light compared to her siblings. Her dress was a vibrant shade of coral, accents of peach along billowing sleeves. Arvella felt her stomach churn as the sister looked at her expectantly, as if she had already known her for a long time.

"Lady Abrasax," the crimson-haired man spoke, bowing slightly, "it is a pleasure to see you once more."

The familiar woman with dark hair smiled lightly at her father, her deep eyes lingering on him for a moment. Arvella couldn't decipher the meaning behind them, the way they seemed to change with every passing second. Was it a certain recognition? A threat?

"I bid you the same, Lord Silaverius," Seraphi replied coolly, bowing her head slowly, "I trust we should begin soon, should we not? The day is still young, and I fear we may be in conference for quite some time."

"Of course, of course," Lady Silaverius chimed in, glancing hurriedly to her husband before looking back to Seraphi, "I only assumed you might require some rest after your long journey to our humble home."

"Oh, that is not necessary," Seraphi assured with a wave of her hand, "we have had plenty of time to rest on our way here, I do not wish to delay things any further." A smile wavered on her thick lips, eyes unmoving as she caught Arvella's stare in her own.

Arvella immediately looked away, instead focusing blankly before her, not wishing to meet the matriarch's gaze once more. It was something about them that made her especially uneasy today, something that was hidden behind them that she could not decipher. So full of secrets, so full of deep intentions.

"Very well," Lord Silaverius nodded, looking over to his wife, "we will begin our conference without further interruption."

With that her parents turned to leave, her father sharing a single flitting look with Batair. Her brother seemed to understand, giving them both a curt nod as they went away, Seraphi followed behind, not bothering to give any of her children a look before disappearing down the corridor.

So there they were. Arvella felt her stomach turn to knots as Batair and her faced the three siblings before them. A peculiar air took hold in the room, silence echoed across the hall. Arvella turned her head to steal a glance at her brother, catching his own gaze as he looked to her. She was hoping to find a bit of advice in him, how to go about this more than uncomfortable situation they had been tossed into. However, it appeared her brother had no ideas as well, thus only developed the tension.

It wasn't them who made the first move, rather, the very man in orchid garments, who took a few steps toward the silent siblings. He folded his hands behind his back, a subtly grin etched across his face. He paused before the two, giving Batair a quick nod before looking back to Arvella.

"An honor to be in the company of the Silaverius' once more," he greeted smoothly, his hazel eyes glistening with deep interest.

Batair stood straight, eyeing Titus suspiciously, his own sunburst eyes bright and fiery. He looked as if he were ready to lunge at him if he were to make any sudden movements, a tiger crouched in wait.

Arvella looked away from her brother, looking back to Titus as she found her eyes trapped within his own magnetized stare. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to acknowledge someone she'd rather not converse with. There was something off about him, something that wasn't natural. It was as if every smile and every stare were well-rehearsed and fraudulent. There was something behind his eyes, just like his mother that held some sort of secret he was holding back.

"Likewise," Batair answered for the two of them, stealing Titus' stare away from Arvella.

The two locked eyes for what seemed like a century, both unmoving, both unwilling to back down. Finally, Titus broke the glare, turning his attention back on the nervous woman.

"And you look as lovely as ever," he smiled to her, making a show of looking her over, "as you can tell, I've gone out of my way to be sure I matched your brilliant eyes."

Arvella felt her cheeks grow hot, quickly looking away from Titus' gaze. His compliments should have made her feel flattered, but for some reason she just grew more and more uncomfortable as he spoke. His stare was hungry, longing, as if he had been starved for a decade, waiting to get his fill.

"That seems a little obsessive," Arvella blurted out, not even thinking out a response before she answered, "and I'm afraid I have made no such attempt to mimic yours. I apologize."

She offered Titus a short grin, watching as his face hardened, his smile vanished. Although a slight fear filled her as she watched his anger swell, a certain confidence began to take hold within her.

She heard her own brother stifle back a laugh, a sound she had not heard in ages. Titus flicked his head to face him, but Batair had quickly covered a Cheshire-like grin, his face returning to his statue-like stillness once more.

Titus averted a cold stare back to Arvella, causing a chill to shoot up her spine, creeping across her shoulders. It was a stare she had never wished to witness again, one filled with so much hatred she could bottle it. He opened his mouth to speak, a snarl forming across his lips, until a fluttering figure of coral rushed between them.

"Oh well, look at this," Kalique chimed as she clutched Arvella's hands suddenly, "I've heard so much about you, we should talk for awhile."

Arvella was certainly shell-shocked by Kalique's own forwardness, her apparent kindness overwhelming. Her wide smile stretched across her glowing face, chestnut eyes bright and glistening. She was certainly a bright beacon of a woman, so eager and full of life.

Arvella opened her mouth to speak, but before she could form the words Kalique had whisked her away, pulling her off with one hand.

Arvella found herself being dragged outside into the courtyard, where blooming dahlias and swaying magnolia trees filled their senses, created an air of true peace. It was one of Arvella's favorite places, one where she spent most of her time reading under a bright magenta sky.

Kalique led her over to a bench, where she took a seat and motioned for Arvella to sit beside her. Arvella obeyed, cautiously taking a seat beside her, hoping that this sibling was much more pleasant than her younger brother.

"So sorry for the abruptness of the situation," Kalique apologized with a breathy sigh, "I just think my brothers can get a bit...overwhelming at times. We needed a little girl time."

Kalique winked with a short laugh, her own giddiness contagious as Arvella found herself laughing under her breath. For some reason or another, Kalique had a point. Arvella had friends, yes, but most of the time they were just doting on her, wanting her closeness because of her status. It was a faked friendship, but she supposed it was still as such.

"I think you're right," Arvella agreed with her, looking away from her gaze, "I'm afraid things were getting a little...heated."

"Titus can be a bit aggressive," she admitted easily with a small laugh, "he just doesn't know when to stop sometimes."

Kalique paused, seemingly lost in her own thoughts for a moment, before she perked up and looked to Arvella once more.

"I'm Kalique, by the way. I should have mentioned that first, shouldn't I?"

She giggled that infectious sound once more and Arvella couldn't help but smile herself. There was something about Kalique she liked, a certain realness to the way she acted. She was so bright, so proper, and yet there was a child-like innocence to her. She wasn't at all serious like her brothers or her mother. She didn't have to fake a smile, or a laugh, it was all so effortless, so free.

"Arvella," she introduced with a nod of her head, feeling the tension begin to dissipate, "it is very nice to meet you."

"You as well," Kalique grinned even wider, "like I've said, I've heard so much about you from my brothers. If you haven't noticed, Titus fancies you quite a bit."

Arvella was a little taken aback by Kalique's admission, not expecting the sudden influx from her words. Of course, Arvella had a feeling he had a little bit more on his mind than being simply just acquaintances, but she hadn't really thought about being more.

"I hope you do not take any offence," Arvella began, placing her hands before her defensively, "but I'm afraid I do not feel the same about Titus...I Just do not know him well-enough."

Arvella braced herself for a sudden onslaught from Kalique, prepared to hear the unthinkable. She knew if someone had spoken ill of Batair she wouldn't be pleased at all, so she only expected the same from Kalique. However, what came next was entirely unexpected.

"So you like Balem then," Kalique beamed excitedly, edging closer to Arvella. Her response wasn't even a question, it was as if she had already known her response, had already deduced it from before.

Arvella's smile vanished, looking away from her quickly as she felt her cheeks go pink. No, she hadn't expected those words at all and was immediately caught off-guard by them. Balem? How had he gotten mixed up into this conversation? She didn't know what to say. Sure, Balem was much more easy to get along with than his brother and so much easier to talk with. He didn't say a lot, but there wasn't really any reason to. She understood him in a way.

"Well, I mean...er," She stammered, biting at her lips nervously as she searched for the words, "I'll admit I think we get along better than I do with Titus, but I still do not know him well-enough to make assumptions." She glanced over to Kalique once more, half-expecting her to look a bit disappointed. However, her cat-like grin stayed, eyes twinkling with the information.

"Your lips may say one thing," she pointed out, poking a finger at Arvella, "but your cheeks say everything you don't want them to." She laughed slightly, offering her a warm smile before playfully patting Arvella’s hand.

"Balem is so misunderstood," Kalique assured her as her face turned a bit more serious, "he's so intelligent yet so quiet. I think he needs a bit more excitement in his life, he needs to get out more. He needs someone like you."

Arvella stared at Kalique for a few moments, taking in her words slowly. Her expression softened, realizing the amount of desperate begging that Kalique held in her gaze. Was she trying to be her matchmaker? This all seemed so wrong to Arvella, seemed so completely foolish.

To Kalique's surprise Arvella quickly withdrew her hands, shaking her head with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, no, no, no, no," she repeated over and over again, "I think you've got the wrong idea. I'm not interested in marrying anyone anytime soon...it's just not me."

Kalique burst out in a fit of laughter all of a sudden, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Oh I'm not asking you to marry him," she roared, slapping her hands down on her lap, "I was just wondering if you could take him out for a bit, make him have a little fun for a change."

Arvella leaned away, surprised from her sudden fit of whoops and chortles.

"Fun?" She questioned, clearly puzzled from the sudden proposition.

"Yes, yes, fun," Kalique repeated with a smile, "you know, it is customary for one diplomat to show off their own countryside. You, my dear, have such a lovely piece of paradise here, I think Balem would appreciate seeing it from another's perspective."

Kalique offered Arvella another small smile before she patted her hand, standing up from the bench. Her swaying gown fell beautifully around her as she walked back inside, turning her head back to look at Arvella once more.

"Besides," she added with a wink, "I wish for that handsome brother of yours to give myself and Titus a tour of the palace grounds." With a short giggle Kalique strode away, leaving Arvella to her thoughts upon the bench.

Arvella couldn't help but laugh slightly as Kalique hurried off, shaking her head as she thought over her words. A tour? She crossed one leg over the other as she thought this over, tapping a finger to her chin in thought. An idea came to her mind, sure, it was a bit far-fetched but she was certain it might work.

Perhaps she did need a day away from the politics that plagued her home, perhaps it would be a welcome change.


	8. Dragonfly

She was the first thing he had picked out in the room. Poised, elegant, a flowing aubergine dress delicately flowing around her feet. The material started with intricate designs of branches, creeping over her shoulders and down her arms. The designs faded when they reached her legs, trailing off into a sheer lace. It was so simple, yet so elegant in the way she held herself.

His eyes trailed up to hers, admiring the way she wore her garnet curls. The up-do had been braided, her hair trailing down her back, over one shoulder, the braid loose and decorated with small, clear stones. He studied her face momentarily, finding that she appeared slightly different than the last time he had seen her. Was it the way she stood, the way her face appeared more collected? Certainly something had changed, he just couldn't decide what.

His thoughts were jolted when Titus stepped forward before her, causing his entire body to tense. He knew exactly what Titus' edge was, why he did what he did, but it didn't bother him any less. Perhaps the most intriguing part of the exchange was waiting for her reaction, waiting to see if her less-than-impressed brother would rip Titus' throat out. As much as Balem wished to step in, he stood back and watched, his skin beginning to bristle.

He was a bit shocked when Arvella had snapped back with such elegance, spoke in such a way that didn't sound as if she were insulting at all. Clearly, Titus took offense to this, as any other heir would, and before he could get his word in, Kalique decided to interrupt.

Balem frowned, he was slightly looking forward to the exchange, to see his brother getting potentially torn apart by Arvella. On the other hand, he was relieved, as this had meant that Titus' advanced had been cut short once more.

He watched suspiciously as Kalique dragged her off, watching as the two both disappeared out into the light. He held his position, watching as Titus, backed away with a stomp, turning to glance at Arvella's elder brother. The tension between the two could have been cut with a knife, the cold stare they shared. Palms pressed together neatly, unmoving, he watched silently, expectantly.

"Well she's rather thick, isn't she?" Titus huffed with a grand roll of his eyes.

Balem raised a brow as he watched him, the corner of his mouth rising just slightly at his discontempt. What came next, however, was even more amusing.

"Arvella is clearly very intelligent," Arvella’s brother interrupted, casting a downward gaze at Titus, "her taste in suitors is impeccably well-suited."

Titus' nostrils flared, eyes a torrent of blazing rage. It was one thing for him to be shrugged off by a woman, it was another for his own being to be inexplicably challenged. He turned stiffly to Batair, Balem watching as his brother struggled to keep his rage beneath his skin, to keep him from going berserk.

"Perhaps she simply doesn't have a sense of who is 'well-suited' to her," Titus lashed back furiously. He resembled a hostile reptile in the way that he turned so quickly, the way his jaws snapped when he spoke. His vicious eyes glowered at Batair, eyes meant to slay anything in its path, but he had attacked the wrong beast.

The fuming blond brother would have been on him in an instant if it hadn't been for the impeccable timing of Kalique. She blew in like an unpleasantly warm breeze, arms trailing behind her lazily. Her entrance caused the blazing Batair to back down, eyes unwavering on Titus as he stepped back. Balem had to admire his control, his poise, and position. It took a lot not to lash out at his self-engorged brother, even something Balem could not contain at most times.

"Oh!" Kalique burst as she sauntered in front of the feuding men, "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" She placed a porcelain hand in front of her mouth, hiding a shady smile as if she had already known what she had stumbled upon.

"Oh, no, not at all," Batair quickly blurted out, folding his arms as he looked away from the group, clearly embarrassed, "just discussing business, that is all."

Kalique raised a brow to him, clearly unconvinced as she grinned. Kalique was rather thick at times, but she was no stranger to frequent feuding.

"Well nevermind that," Kalique purred, gliding over to Batair. She wrapped her arms around one of his own, looking up to the startled man with a gushing grin.

"It is customary to give a tour of one's country," she reminded him with twinkling eyes, "it is only polite."

She glanced over to Titus, giving him a certain look, as if saying that if he did not follow he would never hear the end of it. Titus rolled his eyes with an obnoxious sigh, stepping beside Kalique and her unwilling host.

"R-right," Batair stuttered, his flawless facade failing as Kalique clutched him tightly. His entire face was beet red, Balem thought he might had been used to all of the unwilling attention brought upon such a stunning Entitled.

"Follow me," he finally nodded, trying to recover his composure as he led them off.

Balem decided it would be best to follow, and began to approach them with a couple brooding steps, hands clasped tightly together, eyes forward.

Kalique glanced over his way, eyes widening as a hand flew up to her hair.

"Oh! Oh dear," she gasped dramatically, quickly looking to the ground as she swirled searching for something unseen, "my lapis lazuli brooch, it's gone!"

Balem paused in his steps, narrowing his eyes at Kalique's actions. As he had recalled, she did in fact wear a rather expensive brooch in her hair, and it was, in fact, their mother's. If Kalique had lost such an expensive and sentimental piece of jewellery, mother was going to be livid. Kalique looked up from the floor, catching Balem's own concerned stare.

"Balem, I may have dropped it whilst I was in the courtyard," she claimed, jutting out a pouty lip, "could you please go and see if you can find it?"

Balem could nearly strangle her in this instant, for proposing such an idiotic task for him to complete. He was the eldest, the primary heir, not his sister's personal caddy. Then again, if Kalique was unable to find the brooch, they were sure to all hear their mother's wrath. That was something none of them wanted, and, unfortunately, it looked as if he had to find it.

"Very well," he answered coolly, giving her a sideways glance as he headed out into the courtyard.

"Thank-you!" She called after him, "we'll get started without you, just catch up if you wish!"

Balem rolled his eyes, not bothering to look back over his shoulder to see his siblings disappear with the Silaverius brother. He had no desire to go on any sort of sight-seeing tour, as those things were so drab. The last thing he wanted to do was spend the rest of the day with his annoying siblings, listening to them bicker the entire day with them getting on his nerves.

He stepped outside through an arched corridor, light beaming down in rivers through thick canopies. He squinted, such unprecedented brightness overloading his senses. He brought up his arm, a feeble attempt to block out the light, taking long strides as he descended further into the garden. His head was suddenly filled with the sweet aroma of magnolias and orchids, scents he had not smelled in what felt like ages. He didn't prefer the outdoors by far, he was more used to the metallic walls of ships and citadels, everything that wasn't natural by default.

As his vision adjusted, he dropped his arm gradually, letting his eyes adjust to his surroundings. As everything began to come into focus, a jolt of crimson caught his sight.

He stopped abruptly in his tracks when he saw her, so perfectly seated on a marble bench, looking off into the garden of flora. Her hands were neatly folded in her lap as she gazed distantly off, lustrous skin glimmering in the traces of sunlight. The sight of her stunned him, as if he had seen her for the first time.

As if she had heard him, her eyes flickered to him, widening with what he hoped wasn't fear at his appearance. He had a reputation of being rather intimidating, one that he had never really let bother him, until now.

"Oh, hello," she greeted after a moment, a short smile crossing her lips.

Balem had to admit, he was slightly surprised at her action, having guessed an awkward silence to follow. Where he would usually feel nervous, a wave of calm came over him as he stared at her, at first entirely lost for words.

"Kalique has lost her brooch," he blurted out suddenly, remembering why he was originally out here, "have you seen it?"

"Sorry...no," she frowned, shaking her head. She moved her hand from her lap, placing it on the bench beside her as she adjusted herself, yet suddenly withdrew with a jolt.

Balem raised a brow, glancing to where her hand had retreated, and saw something sparkle on the bench. Arvella looked rather confused as she looked at the object, plucking it off her seat carefully. She looked over it ever so delicately, eyes wandering over the intricate piece. It was certainly beautiful, the blue stone covering it shimmering in her hand. It was shaped like a dragonfly, the wings dotted with other priceless gems, accented with stunning silver. It was one of his mother's most prized possessions, and Kalique had nearly lost it.

"Is this it, then?" Arvella laughed suddenly, outstretching her arm and offering it to him, "it is very beautiful, I'd hate for her to lose it."

Balem nodded, closing the distance between them as he carefully took it from her, looking it over in his own hand.

"It's our mother's," he answered stoically, placing it in the pocket of his robe, "it is very dear to her."

Arvella nodded with a certain understanding, her eyes shifting from his pocket to his own gaze. Deciding that it was best he went back, he reluctantly began to turn away, feeling that bit of awkwardness returning in the air. He was uncomfortable, but in the best way he could understand it, but still, he felt as if he had to go.

"Wait!"

He froze in his tracks as her piercing voice shattered the air around him, a force unseen to him somehow drawing him back. Nervously, he glanced over his shoulder, wondering what she could possibly want with him now, why she would want anything to do with him.

Like a painted vision, she rose, gown elegantly falling around her, a thin finger reaching up to place a loose scarlet strand behind her ear. She looked sheepishly off towards the ground as if she feared what she was about to say.

"It is customary for one to give a brief tour of their own world," she explained, her gaze finally drifting back to his, "and if you do not mind, I would very much like it if I could show you mine."

Balem could not measure how long he had stared at her so blankly, how still he was when her words left her lips. He must have looked like a fool, lips barely parted, eyes widened with a sudden interest, his body frozen in place. He thought over her proposition carefully, his mind briefly flickering back to his siblings, who were more than likely far gone by now. Surely it would be the best move on his part, to accept her offer, as it would be a good opportunity for business, as his mother would typically put it. At worst, she would simply show him around her palace, perhaps more of the extensive gardens surrounding it, something he could bare for an hour or so.

"So...is that a yes?" Arvella suddenly grinned, a short giggle escaping her throat.

That sound alone broke him of his thoughts, and he stared back at Arvella, at first entirely lost for words.

"That would be most gracious," he finally replied with a slow nod of his head. He pivoted back around to face her, ready for her to take the lead.

Arvella's grin only grew wider in response, her violet eyes dancing with a certain mischief, one that he thought he should be worried about. She took a few steps towards him, reaching out and gently taking his own hand in hers. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as her warm skin touched his own, light fingers wrapping around his. Finding whatever courage he could muster, his eyes drifted from their hands to her face once more, and the brightest smile he had ever seen.

"Come on," she beamed, "I want to show you everything."


	9. Amethyst Skies

Arvella's heart was nearly bursting through her chest with utter anticipation as she led Balem through the gardens. She didn't dare look behind her, afraid of his reaction. This was very unlike her to all of a sudden take off with someone she had barely known, let alone it just be the two of them. It was a bold action nonetheless, but she was quickly growing bored of what was expected of her.

She was grinning ear-to-ear when they finally passed beneath an ivy-covered arch, the stone crumbling and cracking in places with age. She couldn't even count the number of times she had passed beneath it, her only portal between the glass palace walls and the untamed wilderness that fell outside. Her father had teased her that she was just like him- a natural affinity to anything and all things wild. Her mother, on the other hand, didn't appreciate that sense of her as much, and tried to keep her under her wing as much as she could.

"Wait," Balem interrupted in a huff, "I thought you were going to show me your manor?"

There was clear confusion in his voice as he struggled to keep up with her, his voice rather out of breath already. It was clear he wasn't used to running like this, or at the very least a quick walk. Arvella couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"All manors look the same," she explained, glancing over her shoulder at him, "they all have windows, walls, and doorways."

She could have sworn she heard him stifle a quick laugh behind her, or it could have been one of annoyance, she didn't want to know which it was.

"Besides," she added, stopping just ahead when a separate building made of white stone came into view, ”some fresh air does one good."

They soon reached the building, Arvella releasing Balem's arm as she walked ahead through two great wooden doors, leaving Balem hunched over, trying so desperately to catch his breath. As soon as he began to regain himself, he glanced up ahead of him, scrunching his face in disapproval as Arvella left him.

"And where exactly have you taken me?" He shouted after her, beyond curious to find out what she was up to. He let out an aggravated growl when she didn't respond to him, straightening up as he brushed off his sleeves. He was already annoyed with the fact that every sort of dirt particle began to cling to his clothing outdoors, and the hot sun was starting to make him overheat in the black he wore. He was certainly unprepared, and he hated that.

He quickly looked up and barely believed his eyes when he saw what was before him. There, proudly perched, was Arvella atop of a snowy-white mare, one with a slightly greying muzzle. What even surprised his more was what she led out behind her with her free arm, a horse with the deepest black coat he had ever seen.

Arvella's face was plastered with a smirk as she trotted over to Balem, stopping a few feet from him as he stared in a mixture of shock and awe. After a few moments, Arvella couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, are you just going to stare or get on?"

It took Balem a moment to realize what was happening, took him a moment to remember where he was at that exact moment. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing.

"You're serious?" He managed to finally speak, looking from the black stallion back to Arvella. "I don't ride."

Arvella merely smiled back at him, gesturing with a nod of her head to the black horse, who was impatiently stamping its hooves and snorting.

"It's not hard," she assured him, leaning down on her own mare, petting down its neck, "they're harmless, really, and very easy to control."

"Easy for you to say," Balem snorted, folding his arms across his chest, "you've been around them before, I haven't even seen one of these creatures before, not in person."

Arvella stared at him in disbelief for a few moments, enough to make Balem shift his feet uncomfortably.

"You're kidding."

"I am not."

Arvella stifled a laugh, biting down on her bottom lip to prevent her from outbursting. An Abrasax, supposed leaders of the universe, champions of all around them, have not seen a horse?

"Well today's your lucky day then," Arvella beamed, handing over the reigns of the stallion to Balem, "trust me, it'll be fun."

Balem stared at the reigns for the longest time, narrowing his eyes at the thought of even holding them. He didn't want to look like a coward in front of Arvella, didn't want to appear weak as he couldn't even ride on a simple horse.

"But what if it loses control, what if I get lost somewhere out there?" He raised, becoming slightly worried as his stomach began to turn to knots. His mind was now buzzing through the limitless possibilities of what was to come, what could happen, all of the horrific ways he could be harmed while astride this beast.

Arvella shook her head, resting her hand just behind one of her horse's own twitching ear.

"It's nearly impossible for that to occur," she assured him, "all of our horses are genetically engineered to have geo-navigators programmed into them. It is almost impossible for one to get lost, let alone tossed. They are the most gentle creatures on this planet."

Her words seemed to work on Balem, but it took a few more moments. Finally, he took the reigns from her and threw a leg over the creature. After a few moments of struggling to climb aboard it, he finally made it with a triumphant 'humph'.

Arvella raised a brow as she watched him, hiding an evident smirk that was creeping across her lips. He stood there so regal, so straight, his black cloak draped across the back of the horse so elegantly. He truly looked as if he had been riding his entire life, that was until the horse began to move.

He let out a surprised yelp as the horse moved forward, rather slowly in controlled steps. The sudden movement caused him to wobble, losing his balance. How he managed to stay on top of the horse was beyond Arvella, but there he was, lifting his nose as if nothing had happened.

Arvella giggled as he opened an eye to look over to her, his expression a mix of being flustered and annoyed. She couldn't help it though, he had tried to play it off so cool, tried so hard to act like he knew exactly what he was doing. It was adorable in a certain way, but there was no way Arvella was going to admit that out loud.

She clicked her tongue as a signal for her horse to move forward, moving her foot ever so slightly in the direction she wanted the creature to go. Before she knew it, she was trotting ahead of him easily, so gracefully as her long hair trailed behind her.

"We better get moving, then, there's much I'd like to show you," Arvella nodded, pausing just long enough to flash a mischievous grin at Balem. With that, she gave her reigns a shake with a loud shout, causing her horse to kick forward in a cloud of dust.

Balem coughed and sputtered behind her, raising his arm to protect his face from the sudden dust cloud. He waved his hand, clearing the air, watching with dismay as Arvella raced ahead of him.

"Hey, wait!" He shouted after her, shaking his reigns to motion the horse ahead, "I don't even know how to pilot one of these!"

Eventually, Arvella had slowed down to allow the struggling Balem to catch-up, mainly because she really wasn't sure if he ever would have. He was going painfully slow, cautiously weaving his horse in and around rocks, even if the creature could easily step over them.

It was about an hour when Arvella had finally announced their first destination, and when they paused in front of a very large, vine-covered rock, Balem was indeed baffled.

"A rock?" He scoffed, stopping beside Arvella, "is this one of the great wonders of your planet...a rock?"

He really wasn't trying to be rude, but he also wasn't going to be very happy if they had traveled all this way on horseback just to see a giant boulder. Indeed, the thing was massive, it could almost be considered a mountain if it were just a bit taller. Overall the thing had to be the size of a luxury space-craft, truly something of such a scale shouldn't be out in the middle of nowhere.

"No, not just any rock," Arvella interrupted, ignoring Balem's frustration as she led her horse forward, "it, like many things here, holds a secret."

With that, she continued straight for the rock, and to Balem's utter surprise, went straight through the thick brush and vines and vanished.

"Arvella?" He questioned, raising a brow as he tilted his head to see where she had gone. To him, it looked as if she had simply gone through the rock altogether, horse and all. Curious, he edged his steed closer, and paused just before the barrier of vines. Slowly, he reached out a hand, carefully brushing his fingers against the green leaves. In a gentle motion, he parted away the entangled vines, peering inside the opening he now saw.

He didn't believe his eyes.

Before him, what he thought was going to be a vast amount of endless darkness, the cavern glowed in brilliant hues. Shades of violet, gold, and amber lit the cavern walls from crystals that sprouted from every direction. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

"Do you like what you see?"

Balem's daze was broken when Arvella's voice echoed from the cavern walls, and he spotted her just ahead, proudly sitting upon her horse. The creature's once white coat was now stained with light, giving it the appearance of a stained glass window. The effect it had on Arvella was the same, but somehow, she was even more entrancing.

"It's beautiful," Balem spoke, his voice soft as he tried to take in every bit of it.

"It is a place that is sacred to us," she explained softly, the light from the crystals dancing across her eyes, "we come here when we need to remember what is important to us."

Balem looked to her, his eyes seeming to mix with confusion. Remember? What would crystals have to do with someone remembering? Perhaps it had just been a figure of speech, or there could have been a mystical property to this place he had not known yet. Either way, this place was dazzling, relaxing, and even moreso, he was becoming lost in his own thoughts.

He watched as Arvella edged her horse over to one of the jeweled walls, her dainty hand reaching out to pluck a brilliant amethyst gem from a large cluster. She rode her horse slowly to Balem, stopping so she was nearly up against his steed. She held out the crystal to him, nodding her head to signal that it was in fact a gift. Cautiously, he held out a hand and exhaled slowly as she placed the cool violet rock into his palm, taking her hand and closing his around it.

“So you can remember this place,” she smiled gently, her touch lingering on his for a few moments longer.

For a moment, Balem got lost in her own reflective orchid eyes, watching as the various colors of light danced within them. He slowly retreated his hand, opening his palm to admire the precious gem. He opened his mouth to thank her, but before he could Arvella spoke up.

"But this is only the beginning," she explained, her bright grin returning as she urged her horse into a gallop once more.

Balem could only laugh slightly this time as she took off once more, and this time, he was right behind her.

Arvella had led him across miles and miles of her planet's terrain, through forests filled with blooming trees to waterfalls that seemed to fall from the sky itself. They rode through grassy hills of violet and through rushing waters alike, Balem becoming lost in the ever-changing scenery.

Finally, as they day was in its final cycle, Arvella led him up a steep hill, stopping at the very top to give the horses a break. She jumped off, walking to the very edge, Balem doing the same. To his surprise, he found the hill had ended abruptly, and now they were standing at the end of a very steep cliff. The hill ended all together, the edge curling over rocks and grasses. At first, he was slightly concerned, hoping no one would fall over the edge, but then, Arvella pointed something out in the distance.

The sun was just starting to set, the hills coming alive in violent bursts of scarlet and gold. They were colors that he would have never thought he would witness, shades so vibrant it was as if they had been painted onto the sky. Just below the painted hills was her very kingdom nestled among the hills, dim lights just coming on and illuminating the small city. It almost didn't look real, it almost appeared to be something he would see in an old book, something so ancient, something so perfect.

He watched as Arvella sat down upon the grass, he legs tucked around her as she gazed out at the landscape. She glanced up to him, her violet eyes warm and inviting, and patted the spot of grass beside her.

Balem raised a brow. Normally, he wouldn't even think about sitting on the ground, subjecting himself to such a thing was a symbol of peasantry. Yet, he felt comfortable with her, at least, comfortable enough to know that she wasn't about to insult him for doing so. It took every bit of convincing himself, but finally, he sat down next to her.

He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his lap as he gazed out at the darkening sky.

"What are you thinking?" Arvella asked softly as she gazed distantly off.

The corner of Balem's mouth lifted slightly, his lush lips curling into the smallest of smiles. He turned his head to her, a certain softness in his eyes, something that Arvella had yet to see. It was a look of peace, of understanding, as if he had finally relaxed after years of unrest.

"That I think I need to get fresh air more," he laughed slightly, his brilliant white teeth catching on the fading beams of sunlight.

Arvella laughed in response, a slight breeze blowing past them, sending strands of scarlet curls into her face.

"Indeed, that is true," she giggled, turning her head to look at Balem, "and there is still so much to discover...just not enough-"

"Time." Balem finished, his smile fading as she spoke. As if something had suddenly come over him, he reached out a hand, gently placing it on her cheek as he brushed a stray claret curl from her face.

She froze in that instant, unsure of what to do. Before she could act, he drew himself closer to her, closer than she ever could have dreamed. As he cradled her face in his hand, he drew his face closer to hers, his lips coming within inches as she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

Arvella had finally snapped out of her daze and quickly leaned away, startled all of a sudden by his gesture. She looked rather flustered, her cheeks a bright scarlet. She stumbled onto her feet, brushing off her dress as she cleared her throat.

"I'm afraid we need to head back," she nodded firmly, her voice suddenly rushed, "dinner will be served shortly, we simply can't be late."

Balem leaned away, the disappointment in his face clearly evident, but he felt the heat in his face. He had not known what had come over him all of a sudden, and it was completely improper of him to do so. There was a slight sting of rejection, but he had come on too strongly, had let his instincts take over rather than proper judgment. He quickly rose to his feet, climbing on top of his steed as did Arvella, and they began the journey back to the city.

"Sorry," he apologized meekly, his head bowed as he followed behind her, "that was completely inappropriate of me."

The silence that followed was almost deafening, and it took every ounce of Arvella to reply.

"Don't be."

And she smiled.


	10. The Fountain

Quick steps and heavy breaths, windows passed by endlessly as they raced down the halls. A wide grin and an escaped laugh, this was the most fun Arvella had experienced in ages. A rush of adrenaline, her heart racing, a tinge of fear racing down her spine.

"Don't worry," she breathed, her breath almost entirely gone, "we won't be late."

She glanced over her shoulder as Balem gave an abrupt nod, a sign that he too had lost whatever voice he could muster. Sure, they were cutting rather close on time for dinner started at 7 o’clock sharp. Right now, after only glancing at a clock, it was nearly 5 minutes till, and by now, they literally only had minutes left.

Arvella, however, didn't care whether they were late or not. Sure, it was horrible manners to be late when guests were here, but it was her home, so she liked to think she had a bit of an excuse. Balem, on the other hand, was completely distraught at the idea of being late, it had nearly made him go into a manic state. He didn't express his displeasure on the outside, but his dark eyes were a crystal clear reflection to his emotions.

Finally, Arvella caught sight of the grand ebony doors ahead of them, where she knew the others were waiting perhaps impatiently on the other side. Arvella stumbled to a stop in front of the doors, taking a few seconds to try and regain herself. She took in deep breaths, shutting her eyes and trying to relax, before turning to face Balem, who was doing the same.

Arvella glanced up to Balem, giving an acknowledging nod to indicate that she was ready, and when he did the same, she slowly, carefully pushed open the doors.

What she saw next took the breath right out of her once more.

For a moment, she didn't believe her eyes. The first thing her vision rested upon was the long table, staring down at it and the many silver goblets and plates that lined the dark wood. Her eyes trailed down the table and rested on her father, at least who she thought to be.

The man who faced her sitting at the head of the table was young, perhaps in his mid-twenties. His hair was a striking crimson, much like her own, except no gray lined the edges. His skin was soft and smooth, tanned and unwrinkled. For a moment, Arvella had forgotten to breathe.

"Father?" She choked out, the sound pained and confused. She didn't know what was going on, but she felt her stomach starting to churn. She trembled as she turned her head to the seat beside her father, inhaling quickly when she saw the woman who now smiled back at her.

"Mother?"

She, as well, was a much younger version of her former self, her golden hair so vibrant and full of life. Her violet eyes shimmered in the light, her teeth so bright when she smiled at her. A face so full of joy, so full of absolute elation, Arvella should have felt something similar, but only dread began to cloud her very state. She would have fainted if it hadn't been for another voice, one that seemed to awaken her.

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

Arvella slowly came out of the fog she was experiencing, turning her attention on none other than Seraphi. She held herself grandly at the table as if she had been the center of attention, holding her posture so high, so brilliant. Her ebony hair glistened under the crystal lights, her pale marble skin almost glowing. Her lips were now painted a vibrant red, her remarkable eyes seeming to look directly through Arvella.

"What have you done to them?" Arvella managed to utter, her voice soft, trembling.

Her response ushered quick laughter from both of her parents, a small smile crossing Seraphi's lips.

"I have done nothing," she explained, gesturing over to her parents, "I have merely presented a grand opportunity, and your parents have kindly accepted."

"Opportunity?" Arvella scoffed, her confusion quickly turning to anger as she began to realize the gravity of the situation, "by turning them into something they're not?"

Yet another round of laughs quickly filled the room, and Arvella was only growing increasingly frustrated with the replies. She was so confused, so hurt, what had Seraphi done with her parents?

"But Arvella," her mother soon answered, her voice cool and calm, "it is us."

"No," Arvella quickly retaliated, shaking her head, "it isn't...but if it is..." She shook her head, looking to the floor before looking back up to them, studying them closely.

"How?"

Arvella nearly jumped when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and slowly looked over to see Balem gazing down at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"It is better if we show you.”

——-

Arvella gazed down at the pool before her feet, furrowing her brow as she studied the shimmering waters before her. It stayed so still like a sheet of glass, yet she could see tiny ripples from below the surface, cobalt flickers as if lights were going out. It was unlike any substance than she had ever seen before. The more she looked at it, tried to gaze down into its depths, the more she became lost, intrigued.

"We call it Regenex," Seraphi explained, stepping up behind Arvella.

Arvella glanced over her shoulder to the woman, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Is it the fountain of youth?" She tried, having read many tales about a fabled fountain before.

Seraphi merely chuckled, clasping her hands in front of her cooly.

"In a way, yes," she nodded gesturing to the pool, "think of it more as a serum, something we have created."

Arvella bit her lip, looking back at the still pool before her as she narrowed her eyes. Slowly, she knelt down so she was closer to the surface, leaning over ever so slightly. She gazed down into the dark depths, studying her reflection on its smooth surface. There was something so surreal to it, something so foreign yet strangely familiar. She gently reached out a hand, hesitating just before it touched the surface. Something kept her away, a flood of energy sweeping over her, sending chills down the spine. Yet, she needed it, needed to know.

A ripple was sent out when her delicate finger touched the surface, trails of vibrant blue streaks cascading around it. It was almost a shock at first, but it sent a wave of pure euphoria through her, a feeling that she had never experienced. She smiled, taking a deep breath as she immersed her hand in it, moving her fingers through the liquid. It was surprisingly warm to touch but perfect in every sense. As she waved her hand around, she felt the lightness of it, felt the energizing texture it had on her skin. It was as if a thousand little beads were being bounced against her skin, as if it were neither a liquid nor solid.

She finally found the courage to draw her hand out, watching as the serum ran off of her skin. What she saw was not a hand worn from years of riding, but now as smooth as a newborn's skin. She gasped, looking it over in awe as she saw all of her wrinkles were gone, every crack and scratch she had ceased to exist. Even her nails, which she usually had a very difficult time keeping nice, were glimmering and perfect.

With wide eyes, she turned her head to look at Seraphi once more, her mouth open in complete awe at the sight. She was truly speechless.

"You will never have to worry about growing old ever again," she explained to her with a bright smile, "the serum will restore you to your pique physical condition despite whatever may ail you."

"Immortality?" Arvella finally spoke, her eyes drifting back to her hand as she looked it over. Her eyes averted to Balem as he stepped forward, his hands neatly clasped in front of him as his dark cloak trailed the ground behind him.

"Precisely."


	11. Forever

She still wasn't sure how it had happened. It had seemed like only yesterday when she had met him, when she had opened up her world to show him. It seemed like only a week ago she had been wrapping his wounded hands, fending off his persistent brother. Well, it had felt that way, for the time seemed to pass at an astounding speed, sixteen years to be exact, but what a wonderful sixteen years it had been.

Her encounters with the Abrasaxes did not end with the simple treaty they had concocted with her family. In exchange for three of their finest, grandest luxury ships and a pact of protection, the Abrasaxes had provided her family with an unlimited supply of their finest export; Regenex. Her parents had used it liberally, her brother even had used it only twice, but Arvella, on the other hand, hadn't let her skin touch it since the first. Yes, she was 38 now, wrinkles began to wear on her face, laugh lines now plainly visible. Yet, she was not ashamed with her looks and her age, but she was concerned.

Balem and her had passed some time together the last few years, he would come to visit her on more than one occasion, and she had visited him as well. They wouldn't do anything more than talk and take strolls around a garden or sit aboard a ship and merely read with one another. It was a good relationship, if she would even call it that, a simple friendship that she treasured more than anything else. But, there was also something that gnawed on her very being.

How did Balem now see her? Was she no longer pleasing to look at, no longer young and vibrant? Given, Balem let himself age more than his other siblings, who used the serum so freely it was as if they took a daily bath in it. With Balem, however, Arvella had noticed he aged with her, that he did not care what he seemed to look like. That brought a sort of comfort to her, and yet that feeling was still there.

She wanted to be beautiful.

"What are you thinking about?"

Arvella's head lifted from her haze, slowly turning to face him. His gleaming eyes gazed at her curiously, filled with a mixture of wonder and concern.

Arvella bit her lips as she studied him, looked past his dark hair, the sides graying. His face showed the slightest of wrinkles, of age, his eyes tired in a sense. She looked away for a moment, finally coming to a realization.

"I need to use it."

She looked up to him once more, almost guilty, as if she were ashamed of having to admit it. She didn't want to look weak to him, vulnerable, didn't want him to see such a disheveled woman, didn't want him to feel like he deserved better company. For a moment, she thought he was going to laugh at her, but instead, he merely kept his calm, straight face.

"Why?"

Why? What sort of an answer was that? Arvella had never stopped to think why she would need such a thing. She thought for a moment, going through every deep corner of her mind and studied her heart.

"Because I don't want to die," she admitted, feeling her eyes beginning to swell with tears, "because there is so much left of this universe that I want to see, there is so much that I don't want to leave."

Her voice was heart-wrenching, it took every ounce of her not to reduce to sobbing before him. No, she must stay strong. Then, her barrier began to crack as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She shut her eyes tightly to prevent any more from coming, tried to stifle a sob in her throat. Now she had made a fool of herself, she wouldn't blame him if he left.

But he didn't.

She jumped slightly when she felt a warm hand on her cheek, a finger wiping away her fallen tear. It was a touch so gentle, so meaningful, that she didn't even believe it was Balem. She opened her eyes, blinking away a few more tears as she looked back up to him with watery eyes, her gaze meeting his.

"You won't," he assured her, his voice soft, "I will search every star with you, every planet and galaxy. I will stay with you, forever."

Arvella was taken back by his words at first, surprised he was telling her such a thing. But his voice, so soft, so caring, so genuine, she knew he wasn't lying to her, he would never lie to her. He softly brought her face closer to his, stepping closer, pausing when he was mere inches away from her. They stood there for what seemed like centuries, staring into one another's eyes. They needn't speak any words, for they already knew what they were feeling, and it was real.

"You are my starlight," he whispered, just before he closed the gap and gently brushed his lips against hers.

Arvella closed her eyes, taking in everything that was happening at that moment. The feeling of his soft lips on hers, his hand gently caressing her cheek. At first, she was frozen, unsure of what to make of it, but soon found herself deepening the kiss, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the moment. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving her a little more leverage as he continued to kiss her. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, as if her heart were fit to burst outside of her chest, as if a million little torch flies were bouncing around in her gut. It was then she realized this feeling, this feeling she had denied herself so many times, was love.

———

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Arvella smirked, glancing back at Balem as he lounged lazily on a bench, his hand propping up his head as he watched her hungrily, a short smirk plastered across his lips. She shook her head with a short laugh, turning her attention back to the task before her.

Her smile slowly vanished as she stared at her reflection before the dark pool, watched herself as sparks of blue riveted through the waves. It was so relaxing, yet absolutely unnerving to stare into the liquid, to not know what she was to expect. She bit her lip, looking over her shoulder at Balem with pleading eyes.

"Why don't you go first?"

Balem let out a quick laugh, rolling his eyes as he stood to his feet, his silken black robe trailing the ground behind him.

"Are you really that nervous?" He inquired, raising a brow as he approached her.

Arvella furrowed her brow, annoyed that she was being picked out as being frightened. Well, in all reality, she was.

"Exactly how many times have you done this?" She challenged, folding her arms across her chest.

Balem seemed to quiet then, looking away from her as he looked to the waters.

"Far too many times to count."

His answer did not surprise her, as she had expected him to be much older than she to begin with. She knew the Abrasaxes had been around for centuries, but little did she know until a few years ago it had been the same generation.

She watched him as he disrobed, looking away for a moment as she felt her cheeks flush from looking at his naked form. Even if he were a bit older now, he was still in peak physical condition. His skin was flawless, pale, he was slim yet still well-toned. She found herself staring far too longer than she should have until he waded off into the deep pool. Once he was submerged to his shoulders, he turned to look at Arvella before he dove deep beneath the surface.

Arvella watched with a sudden awe as he vanished, the blue ripples surging violently around, bubbles rising as he sank deeper. She wanted to look away, wanted to be terrified and to simply run away from his experience, but she did none of that. She felt herself sigh in relief as he emerged, neither gasping nor flailing about. He emerged so calm, so collected, she was sure he was a professional with this now. His skin was now smooth, his eyes brighter, his hair no longer graying. It's usual slicked-back look was now demolished, however, as loose strands hung in front of his face. He opened his eyes, smoothing back his hair as he reached up another hand, gesturing it for her to come forward.

Arvella took a deep breath as she took a few steps forward, looking at the dark pool as she approached it. She paused before it, looking back up to Balem for reassurance as he nodded. She sighed, looking back down as she slowly disrobed, letting her violet robe fall to the ground.  
She now felt more insecure than ever, felt Balem's eyes on her. She felt ugly, old, unworthy of his gaze. No, she couldn't feel that way, not now.

With every ounce of courage she could muster she stepped forward into the pool, feeling the warmth as the liquid began to cover her. She watched as the blue ripples began to dance around her, attracted to her skin like insects to a flame. The terror she felt was unlike any other, the possibilities fluttering through her head that if something were to go wrong. Finally, she approached Balem, everything but her shoulders and head were submerged, and he only simply nodded to her once more.

"Just don't think about it," he reassured her, "and hold your breath."  
Arvella took a deep breath before she dove in quickly, eager to get it over with. Her head disappeared below the pool, shutting her eyes tightly. She felt her skin beginning to change, something bouncing against it in numbers. It was a pleasant feeling, not painful in any way, and she was filled with instant relief and peace.

She gasped when she broke through the surface, taking deep breaths as she tried to regain the breath she had lost. She opened her eyes to see Balem gently smiling at her.

"You see? Simple," he breathed, looking her over pleasingly.

Arvella quickly looked down at her reflection, smiling when she saw her young and flawless face once more. It had worked, it had really, truly worked.

Before she had a chance to express her utter joy, Balem cupped her face in his hands, his lips crashing into hers. It had taken her by surprise, no doubt, but the gesture was not unwelcome. It had been so raw, so emotional that she found herself lost in the kiss and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. The energy that flowed from the water swirled around them, she felt it dancing on her skin as he kissed her, trailing his kisses down her neck. She gasped, shutting her eyes as she enjoyed every minute of it, enjoyed every second she had with him, reminding herself only then that she would spend a lifetime with him, spend a lifetime with her starlight.


	12. Ghosts

"Here, take this."

Arvella watched cooly as Balem held his hand out to her, and in his palm a small circular device, no bigger than her pinky nail. To her it looked no more than a little piece of worthless scrap metal but knew it possessed a much greater purpose.

She took it gently, turning it over in her hand, and looked up to observe Balem placing an identical device behind his own ear. She copied and winced as the device attached itself, driving small needles just under her skin. That was a feeling she never wished to experience again.

"Perfect," Balem smiled as he reached for her, placing a delicate finger on her device, "this is a teleportation implant. It is already tuned to the ship's own telekinetic frequencies. It will take you exactly where we need to go."

Arvella closed her eyes as he withdrew his hand, opening just when he was finished explaining. She had heard of such devices, but had never used one for herself, never had the need.

"Why not just land your ship here?" She questioned, looking out the ship's grand window at the planet in question. It was vast, a great orb of dusty orange and white clouds. It was so mesmerizing, in a way, and yet she still hadn't a clue why Balem had wanted her to come with him.

"It is much simpler to take ourselves there than this entire ship," he explained calmly, approaching the window as he clasped his hands behind his back, gazing out at the swirling planet.

"Exactly what is it you wanted to show me?" She asked curiously, stepping up beside him at the window, "don't tell me we're going down there. It is nothing more than a great poisonous cloud, it would mean certain death to go to such a place."

She glanced over at him worryingly, wondering what exactly he was planning to do. To her surprise, he merely smirked, continuing to admire the planet.

"Believe me," he started, looking back to her, "there is more to it than meets the eye."

Arvella furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering what that meant. Before she could open her mouth to ask, Balem reached behind his ear and tapped the device, and in a single moment of morphing pixels, he was gone.

Arvella shook her head, a feeling of utter dread coming over her. What if her device failed to take her where Balem was? What if she ended up floating out into the middle of space? It was a horrible thought, but for all she knew it could have been a possible outcome.

Looking out at the planet, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes before she slowly reached a hand up. She barely touched the device and was suddenly overcome by a new sensation, as if she were floating in mid air.

When she finally opened her eyes, her breath had been taken away.

The room was vast and golden, the tiled floors shining with brilliance, the walls matching. Great pillars rose up, arched windows looked on a bustling city in shades of amber. She looked up, admiring the architecture, the magnificence. She was entirely lost for words.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Balem questioned as Arvella turned to meet the voice. There he was, as if he had already been here waiting for her for an hour, lounging gracefully on a floating loveseat.

"It's...It's incredible," Arvella admitted with a smile, looking above him at the great window that exhibited his growing empire. It was spectacular, ships flew in at steady paces, towers were being built in the distance. Everything glowed as the clouds around them swirled carelessly, almost as if they were trapped in an endless storm of sand.

She looked back Balem, who now wore a smile that could only reflect how proud he was of this place, and he had every right to be smug. She watched as his expression changed to that of one more serious as he looked over Arvella's shoulder, and she could now hear the soft clicking of heels against the bronze floor.

She looked over her shoulder to see none other than Seraphi herself, who wore an astonishing lovely white gown beaded with jewels of rubies. She wore her hair up simply, a matching ruby sparrow clip keeping it together tightly. She looked stunning, as usual, her flawless skin and bright eyes shining brilliantly in the metallic room.

"Lady Seraphi," Arvella greeted, curtseying immediately.

She looked down at her own dress she had chosen for today. It was a dark blue, the material shimmering as if tiny diamonds were woven into the fabric. The neckline was an elegant sweetheart, and one of her arms was covered in a sheer lace of the same color, and ruffles elegantly lined bits and pieces of it, leading into her gown. The bottom of it was much more sheer than the top, as the ruffles dissipated like clouds drifting apart in the skies. It was form fitting, yet elegant, and did not expose too much of her shimmering skin.

"Good afternoon Lady Arvella," Seraphi greeted with a kind smile, bowing her head in acknowledgment, "you look absolutely beautiful."

Arvella felt her cheeks grow warm at her compliment, finding herself looking down at her own dress once more. Sheepishly, she looked up to Seraphi as the woman paused in front of her.

"You as well, your majesty," Arvella complimented, "as always, of course."

She glanced over her shoulder as she watched Balem arise, moving beside Arvella to face his mother, his posture so composed, so serious. He folded his hands in front of him, the sleeves to his black top falling gracefully beside him. She had noticed he had tried to match her, if not intentionally, as his shirt beneath the open black vest was a deep blue as well, with shimmering metallic material. He wore tight black leather pants to match, and also wore a peculiar golden choker around his neck. She couldn't help but wonder why he would choose something that looked so uncomfortable, but she would not question his choices.

"Quite impressive thus far, I must say," Seraphi complimented Balem, looking above her at the towering pillars, "it is far larger than I had originally thought."

Balem kept his composure and began to walk, gesturing for the two of them to follow. As they walked the large corridor to a set of vast double doors, both gleaming with new metal.

"Jupiter is the largest planet in this solar system," he explained, "it is a gas giant, and until now there wasn't a speck of solid material to build on."

Arvella listened, absolutely astounded at everything she heard. She looked out of the windows as they walked, admiring the swirling amber clouds she had seen before.

"Using a gravity shield I am able to keep the center of this planet clear from storms," he explained, turning to gesture at the massive curving beams from outside the window, ones that seemed to hold up a massive dome.

"Ingenius," Seraphi beamed, her smile glistening, "truly such a great accomplishment, this will be the center of your great empire."

"So it's a city?" Arvella interrupted, causing Balem and Seraphi to stop in their tracks before her. She stopped behind them, watching as the mother and son smiled knowingly at each other, a chuckle escaping Balem's throat.

"I suppose, it is a city in a way," he smiled, his jade eyes glistening knowingly, "but it is more a refinery than anything else."

"A refinery?" Arvella questioned, "exactly what type of product are you producing to need a factory of this massive scale?"

Balem looked back to his mother, exchanging a look that could only be deciphered by the two of them. Arvella hated that feeling of being left out of something so secretive, so knowing.

"It's easier that I show you," Balem nodded, proceeding to walk out of the large sliding doors.

Arvella followed the two down winding walkways, hallways so tall that it was nearly incomprehensible to know the scale of this place. Finally, they reached a metal lift that took them down to the next floor. When the doors opened she gasped.

Lining the walls of a massive room filled with shelves were thousands of vials of a shimmering white liquid. Everywhere Arvella looked she saw hundreds of cannisters at a time, and down the corridor it was seemingly endless. She watched as workers used floating disks to fly up to the shelves, using a small device to levitate as many vials as they needed. They then took off through tubes near the top of the ceiling, going she knew not where. Other workers replenished the shelves with new vials, and she watched as the process repeated, over and over.

Balem led them through the room, plucking one of the vials from the shelves. He waited for Arvella to walk up beside him, and handed it over to her gingerly.

"This is premium refined Abrasax," Balem explained as she took the vial carefully, "the universe's most sought after commodity."

"Regenex?" Arvella acknowledged, looking over the canister of liquid in her hand.

She recognized the substance anywhere, as she and her family used it often now, at least when they needed it most. It was what had been keeping her alive over these many years, keeping her youthful and pristine. She had actually lost track of her actual age, but she knew it had been at least a century. She had used this liquid so many times it no longer mattered how old she was, and her family now would only celebrate millenia.

"It has many names," Seraphi stepped in, "Abrasax, Regenex, Nectar, but this is the purest in all of the galaxies."

Arvella looked from the glass container to Seraphi, studying her expression. When she talked about this liquid she seemed so alive, so full of energy and pride. Arvella then knew this had been her legacy, her beginning, her secret to her success. Now, she was passing this to Balem, teaching him her ways.

"So how is it made?" Arvella asked curiously, handing the vial back to Balem, "is it from some sort of plant?"

"That comes to the next part of the tour," Balem grinned, gesturing for them to follow him. He led them out of the room to another corridor, taking a few turns until they were met with another set of elegant bronze doors.

In a flourish, he entered first, followed by Seraphi, and last once more was Arvella.

The room reminded her of a sort of a sick bay, the walls were arched, covered in a gray stone. Lined up in rows were glass pods, all seemed to be equipped with devices of sorts. Needles, clamps, tubes, it all felt so sterile to her. Now, she was confused, had he simply led them to a medical wing instead?

"This is one of five hundred and twenty refineries," Balem explained as he led them down the rows of chambers, clasping his hands behind his back, "each refinery is equipped with five thousand two hundred and sixty pods."

"And how quickly can each one be processed?" Seraphi asked as they walked, clearly impressed with the setup.

"Approximately 21 seconds depending on the size," Balem answered cooly, "even quicker for the smaller ones."

Arvella was clearly missing out on something at this point, and her mind raced when they spoke of harvesting. What exactly were they harvesting? Surely it had to have been a fruit or vegetable, maybe even trees, but the way they spoke of it...something was wrong.

"Can I ask exactly what is being harv-" She lurched to a halt as she felt her stomach tighten, her eyes falling upon a seen she surely wanted to, but could never forget.

Instead of staring upon endless pods, she was now faced with one that was now occupied. Inside was not a fruit, not a vegetable nor a tree, but a little girl. Arvella could tell she couldn't be more than 6 years old at most, with pale white skin and where there should have been hair, she had none. She looked like she was sleeping, so peaceful. She wasn't wearing anything, and surrounding her were tubes and wires, and buried into her skull and body were numerous needles, drilling even deeper.

"Ah, we are just in time for one of your more recent harvest's," Seraphi smiled, looking on as even more people were being floated into the pods.

Arvella felt sick.

Her stomach twisted as she watched the drills going even deeper into the girl's skull, the whirring of thousands of machines ingraining themselves into her head. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to forget everything she had just seen, but she had to do something.

Without thinking, she rushed over to the pod with the little girl, slamming her hands down on the glass as she began to weep, began to plead.

"Please! Get her out!" She wept, slamming her fists down onto the pod. The glass did not budge under her strength, didn't even crack as she pounded, screaming for the little girl to wake up. They were torturing her, killing her, taking away her life right before her eyes.

Balem, nearly frozen entirely from shock, quickly rushed over to Arvella, grasping her arms tightly as he tried to pry her away, his eyes wild from fear. Arvella quickly struggled in his grasp, twisting and turning so she could try to escape, but his grip proved stronger than her will.

"Oh don't worry, dear," Seraphi merely laughed with a gesture on her hand, "the girl is already dead. I assure you, they feel no pain during the process."

"No!" Arvella cried, her voice cracking as tears freely fell across her cheeks, "she's just a little girl...she's just..."

At last she gave up her struggle, collapsing onto the ground in a heap. She buried her head in her hands, sobbing into them softly. Balem released his grip, his hands shaking from the experience, his mouth slightly ajar as he looked down upon her. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself to her, crouching down on his knees as he placed his hands ever so gently on her shoulders.

"Mother is right..." He told her quietly, his voice now a whisper as he shook, "it is a painless process, it is just as if they are falling asleep."

In that moment, Arvella ceased her sobbing. With a sudden quickness she shook her shoulders, causing Balem to remove his hands almost immediately. She was silent, still, her cheeks wet with her ruined makeup. Slowly, she stood up, closing her eyes as she thought things over in her head, a million things running through it all at once.

"How many?" She asked, her voice quiet, shaky.

Silence.

"HOW MANY?!" She shouted, turning to face them, her eyes now an angry shade of nightshade.

She glared at them accusingly, both Balem and Seraphi silent and still. Seraphi looked rattled, her face now began to spread with a certain fear, and Balem had already crossed that line many moments ago.

"One hundred will make one unit of Abrasax," Seraphi finally answered, clearing her throat. Arvella could tell, she was trying so hard to keep her composure, with her hands neatly folded in front of her, except she was fidgeting. She was scared.

"A hundred?" Arvella repeated, her expression softening as it went to sorrow once more. It was disbelief that left her throat in airy gasps, her mind now drifting apart.

Slowly, she looked out at all of the others, all of the other lives that were slowly being drained. She watched as that clear liquid left them, being taken through tubes out of the room, she not know where. It was so surreal, and she was so helpless.

19...20...21...

Gone.

She ran the numbers through her head one by one, counting as they died in front of her, all falling asleep to never again wake up.

And then she ran.

She barely heard Balem scream her name as she took off, casting her heels aside as she rushed out of the room, desperate for some air. she could not share the same air as thousands of them died around her, could not bear the weight it cast on her.

Finally, she found herself in an empty hall, where tall windows overlooked the expanding refinery. She watched as ships came in, imagined the recent harvests being unloaded, and imagined them all being placed into pods, being drained so she could live.

Suddenly, she felt a hand clasp on her shoulder, turning her around forcefully. There she was met with Balem, the concern and sorrow etched deeply into his face.

"Please...Arvella, please try to understand," he begged her, his eyes bearing into hers. He was so flustered, his hair had been thrown astray while it had been so well-kept before.

Arvella simply stared at him, looking over his shoulder as Seraphi approached them as calmly as she did before.

"She must understand that in every human society there is a pyramid," Seraphi began, her voice cool and collected, "and that there will always be lives that matter more than others."

"Is someone's life really worth more than thousands of others?" Arvella replied, narrowing her eyes at Seraphi as her tone grew colder, "each life is precious. These people...they aren't a resource. They have lives, families, dreams, destinies...just like us." Her voice began to crack as she felt tears well up once more, but no, she had to stay strong.

She shook off Balem's hand once more as she approached Seraphi, pausing mere feet before her as she looked her straight in the eyes.

"I cannot live knowing that so many others have died just so I can live another day," Arvella spoke through gritted teeth, her voice firm, "and anyone who can live without seeing the faces, hearing the screams of so many that have been sacrificed-"

Arvella paused, taking a deep breath before glancing back from Balem, and back to Seraphi.

"-are monsters."

Arvella watched Seraphi's expression morph, her eyes softening, her lips parting to protest, but she said nothing. What filled her dark eyes was a hint of sorrow, perhaps regret, and Arvella had seen enough.

With that, she turned on her heels, looking to Balem once more as she headed for the corridor. Her stride was confident, her eyes were no violet pools of understanding, of pure grief, of anguish. What she told him next would be the last for a long time to come.

"Goodbye."


	13. Dynasties

"Why are you doing this?"

His words echoed across the room, broken and weak. He waited, waited so long for an answer, and yet he was greeted with silence.

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!"

Finally, the figure stirred across the room, her form silhouetted by the soft glow of the night sky behind her, where thousands of stars sparkled through a galaxy of spiraling clouds.

"Do you not wish to see me this way?" She replied, slowly turning to face him.

Her once flawless skin was now wrinkled, her eyes were so tired, so drained of life. It pained him to look upon her like this, to see such a powerful leader shrivel before him. She couldn't leave him, no, not after all they had been through.

"You can't do this," he pleaded, trying to hold back his tears as he clenched his teeth, "you can't leave me."

The woman closed her eyes, taking a few steps towards him, her hands folded solemnly before her. The black robe she wore was simple and trailed the ground around her as she glided across the floor.

"I'm afraid my life must come to an end, Balem," she answered calmly, "I'm afraid I'm already past my intended expiration date."

Balem's fists clenched as he felt his throat tighten, his eyes stinging with tears. He looked upon her with grief and rage, merely asking for an answer.

"Why, mother?"

Seraphi glanced away from him, looking out at the vast expanses of the starry sky before her, her eyes reflecting her very galaxy around her. She looked so surreal, so at peace with everything, Balem could barely believe she was speaking of her own death.

"I've come to a realization," she admitted, looking back to Balem, "I have lived such a long, prosperous life. I have seen things that some could never imagine seeing. I have seen so much death, so much life, and yet my life is still as empty as it began."

"You're not making any sense," Balem pointed out, furrowing his brow in frustration, "you are living a wonderful life, if you require anything else it shall be given to you. You have me."

His voice was starting to crack, his hands trembling as he spoke. He tried to hold back the tears, tried to deny that everything that she spoke was the truth.

"That is true," Seraphi spoke, a smile appearing on her face, "I have been given three beautiful children, each one as special as the others. I would not trade anything in this world for any of you, I do not regret a second of the moments I have shared."

She paused, looking away from Balem as her expression softened, as a look of sorrow filled her eyes.

"But I do regret many other things. I regret what I did to your father, I regret not being there more for my children, and I regret ever starting a legacy that I cannot destroy."

Balem watched as she unfolded her hands and looked down upon them, turning them over as she studied every wrinkle. Balem listened to her, and with every word she spoke he only grew more enraged, more confused.

"Regenex is the single most important thing we have," Balem argued, wondering why she had regretted such a thing, "we prosper from it, it is what keeps us all alive."

"Indeed," Seraphi agreed, glancing to Balem, "but what of all of the billions of lives we have already sacrificed for so few other lives? They had dreams just like us, lives, loves that may have never come to be. Why do we have to decide who lives and who dies?"

"Because we are better than them," Balem answered through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes, "you said it yourself, you told me that others must die so the better may live. We are their gods, we create them, and we can destroy them."

"No," Seraphi answered defiantly, holding her head up high as she stared at her son, "we are not gods. We are the same flesh and blood that make them up. We may have planted their seeds, but our lives are the same as theirs, just our technology and knowledge seperate us from them. The debts must be paid, for all of the lives I have taken...destroyed...I must die. All will be right then."

Balem's lip curled into a sneer as he began to choke on a sob, furious that his reasoning was getting him nowhere. He remembered when they had used to talk freely, just the two of them, talk about anything and everything. She would tell him stories, tell him about every inch of the galaxy. Of all the planets, the stars, the ships and the people. She knew more about this universe than anyone he had ever known.

Now, she was dying.

"What about me, mother?" Balem sobbed, his voice growing eerily quiet, "what will I do?"

Seraphi lifted her head, looking across to him sadly. Slowly, she approached him, closing the distance between them before stopping before him. Her gleaming eyes gazed into his, the sorrow evident as he stared into them. Slowly, she brought her hands on either side of his face, cradling his cheeks softly, wiping away stray tears lightly with her thumbs. She guided his head down as she leaned up on her toes, placing a kiss gentle kiss on his forehead.

"You are so strong, Balem," she smiled brightly, lowering herself, "but you are young. Please, do not repeat the mistakes I have made...do not lose sight of the people who are most important to you."

Balem stared at her accusingly, his eyes turning to slits in a matter of seconds. He could almost feel his insides tearing in half, a part of him wanting to scream at her, and the other just wanted to weep into her arms.

"I will never lose her," Balem snarled, getting exactly what she was implying, "Arvella loves me more than anything in this entire existence."

Seraphi's smile faded as quickly as it had come, and she merely gave her son a look of deepest pity.

"Then why has she not come back to you?" She asked innocently, slowly releasing her hands from his face, "why does she not come back into your arms telling you so?"

Balem's fists trembled at her words, they stung him like they had never done before. She was wounding him ever so slowly, each gaping hole that formed within him quickly spread, leaving him with a feeling of pure nothingness, a void he could not fill fast enough. He wanted to tell her so many things, wanted her to take back her lies, but his lips would not move, they were sealed from the horrible things he would say.

"If you do not give up this life, this poisonous life I have led you into," she began, tears glistening in her eyes, "then everything you love will be destroyed, and you will have nothing." With that, her face grew serious once more, that stern look he knew so well.

"Destroy that factory, Balem," she demanded, "destroy it or it will consume you. Spend the rest of your natural life with her, don't be like me."

"That factory will provide us with a lifetime of Abrasax," Balem defended, his voice on the edge of breaking as he quivered, "I will become the most powerful man in all of the Universe."

He watched as his mother's face dropped, saw something in her expression that he had hoped he would never see. Disappointment.

"I WILL BECOME A GOD!" He cried out, jerking away from her as his verdant eyes flashed with rage. His jaw clenched as he stepped towards her once more, leaning down so he was eye to eye with her, watching as she stared back with equal intensity.

"How dare you say that I will lose her?" He hissed, strands of hair falling into his face, "I will never lose her, she is mine and mine alone."

Seraphi's eyes burned intently into Balem's, a certain strength exuberating from her. She looked so fragile, so wrinkled and frail, and yet her composure was as strong as it had been years before.

"She will never love you," she whispered to him, her eyes narrowing, "she can never love someone who could continue killing without one single ounce of remorse. If you do not stop this, give up this inheritance I have cursed you with, you will live forever, but Arvella, she will die with or without you."

"NO!" Balem screamed, a primal sound lurching from his throat as he lunged at her. He felt his hands wrap around her neck as he knocked her to the ground, her eyes filled with fear.

He remembered squeezing, his eyes blurred with tears as he watched her choke, her lungs desperately trying to grasp for the air that was barely out of reach. She struggled against him, clawing at the sheer fabric on his skin, clinging to whatever life she had left. Then, she stopped.

He sobbed as her eyes softened, looking into his as the fear slowly slipped away from them, replaced with a certain peace he would never forget. He wanted to let go so desperately, wanted to let go of her and when he did she would be back to normal, speaking of futures and dynasties. She would be his mother again if he let go, if only he could.

"Balem..." She rasped, her hands releasing the rumples of fabric she clung to, "please..."

Balem wept sorrowfully as her final words parted her lips and a single tear trickled down her cheek. Her dancing eyes glazed over as her head rolled to the side, Balem's grip still tight around her throat.

"Mother?" He asked, his voice strained as he slowly unclasped his hands from her neck, where red ghosts of his fingers still remained on her pale skin.

Seraphi, her majesty of the Abrasax Dynasty, was dead. His mentor, his savior, his mother, was dead.

He collapsed beside her in a heap, kneeling down on broken knees as he cried, looking up to nothing as he cried. He did not know to where, to who he screamed, cursed, wept, but to whoever it was, he was sure they were not listening, for they would have already brought her back.

He looked back down to his hands, shaking from the mess he had become. There was no blood, no trace of anything on him that would have suggested such a thing, and yet here they were, the murder weapon. No, he did not kill her, for to him, she had already died a long time ago.


	14. Final Farewells

If Arvella had not known any better, she would have thought she was attending a grand celebration. The ballroom was adorned with various spectacular decorations, golden beads hung from the ceiling like the branches of willows, sparkling in the dozens of ruby chandeliers that lit up the room. Hundreds of conversations erupted around her, laughter, smiles, the clinking of expensive crystal and smell of wine wafting across her nose. Yes, it did feel like a celebration indeed.

Her dark violet gown trailed the ground around her as she walked forward, hundreds of flickering candles glowing around her feet. She watched them warily, dream-like, the flames dancing in her eyes. She folded her hands neatly in front of her, head bowed, avoiding the stares and the whispers of everyone else around her. She was only here for one purpose, and only for one person.

She looked up at the statue before her, of the young woman with the oldest eyes. She stared blankly ahead of her, carved face frozen with a look of strength, a look of undying wisdom. She was so beautiful, so regal, and now she was gone. Arvella bowed her head, looking down from the statue as her eyes fell upon her still form.

Her casket has been carved of pure gold and priceless jewels, sparkling in the candlelight vigil that surrounded her. Arvella dared to take a step closer as her eyes fell upon Seraphi's face, she looked so peaceful, as if she were only sleeping. Arvella could tell she had far too much makeup on, something so odd as Arvella knew that Seraphi had always tended well to her looks with the use of Abrasax. Upon closer inspection, Seraphi had in fact aged since the last time Arvella had seen her, over 20 years ago. Her wrinkles were still apparent underneath all of the powders and creams that had been applied, her hair had been dyed an unnatural color to hide the graying hairs, a regal crown the same in her statue placed upon her head. She wore a gown of ivory, her hand folded over her stomach, hands clutching a handful of orchids.

Arvella closed her eyes for a moment, bowing her head as she spoke a silent goodbye, the only thing she could do for Seraphi now. She stepped forward, taking a small wooden stick and lighting it on one of the candles, and then lit her own candle as she sat it with the others. Just a flame to remember her by, one to last a lifetime. She stood back up and turned around, keeping her head low once more as to avoid any unwanted attention. She had paid her final respects, it was time for her to go.

She kept a quick, steady pace towards the large doors, eager to return home once more and out of the public's eye. She had hidden away for so long, avoiding everything, keeping to her studies and solitude. What had drawn her to come to the funeral, she did not know, but when she had last seen Seraphi she had seen something in her eyes; regret. That one ounce of emotion was enough to draw Arvella here, enough to say her goodbyes one last time. She truly hoped that she would get to know Seraphi better, but now it was too late.

She was nearly to the door until she felt a chilling hand clutch her shoulder, a chill that made her freeze down to her core. She stopped abruptly, a breath hitching in her throat as she imagined the face behind her, felt the eyes staring into the back of her head.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

It was a voice she had wished never to hear again. She closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that it was merely a trick of her mind. She couldn't bear to look at him once more, couldn't bear the torment that she felt, but instead, she inhaled deeply.

"I am here to pay my respects and nothing more," she replied stoically, lifting her head without facing him.

Her voice was cold and barren, the words sliding off her tongue easily, carefully. She had to maintain her control, her carefulness, she couldn't reveal any weakness.

She exhaled when she felt the hand leave her shoulder, glad that perhaps her point had been taken, but stiffened when her pursuer stepped in front of her instead.

When she met the eyes of Balem Abrasax for the first time after more than two decades, she felt her entire being weep at the sight of him. After all this time, she didn't know what she had expected to see, but he appeared youthful as always, ageless. But his eyes, something deep within them was off, unsettling. Something within them had dimmed, flickered, something dangerous was stirring within him. The feeling she got as she stared at him was dread, a dread of what were to happen if she gazed into his eyes longer than she had wanted.

"I am glad to see you," Balem replied, his voice a barely audible hoarse whisper. It was a sound that was chilling, shaky, a tone that made Arvella shiver once more. "It has been far too long."

He stood there so politely, arms folded in front of him, his black robes trailing the floor around him, a golden collar wrapped tightly around his neck. Arvella looked him over, trying to find the words to compose herself, trying to find something amidst the chaos that was now consuming her mind.

"Time is only a matter of perspective," Arvella answered, her tone unwavering as she spoke.

She watched as Balem's expression changed, his brows furrowing, his lips tightening. She would have smiled triumphantly if there had been different circumstances, but for now she kept her calm. She knew she was not telling him what he had wanted to hear, and that was exactly the way she had wished to keep it, she was in control here, not Balem.

"I missed you," he tried once more, his voice cracking as sorrow slipped into his voice, his eyes pleading for mercy. Arvella could tell he was a much different man now than when she had last seen him, but this difference was not necessarily good.

"My deepest condolences to you and your family's loss," Arvella replied, clutching her hands even tighter together than before, wishing that she had only walked a bit faster, "Seraphi was a great leader and a dear friend."

She watched as Balem's eyes narrowed, a certain fire flaring within them as she had seen before. There was something so spontaneous about them, something so unbalanced that she only wanted to run from it. But, as quickly as that fire had come, it quickly vanished, leaving only two dark and empty pools of sorrow.

Arvella stiffened when Balem suddenly took a few quick steps towards her, coming dangerously close to her. He leaned forward, enough so his face was barely inches from her, so close she could smell the stale wine on his breath. She averted her eyes from his, intimidated by his closeness, afraid of what he saw in her. She hated this feeling and for a moment only wished for a pair of wings so she could fly away.

"You look so much like she did when she died," Balem observed as Arvella felt his eyes staring into her, avoiding his hungry gaze.

She knew he was talking about her wrinkles, the gray in her hair, her age was now showing. Ever since she had seen the factory, she had refused to use that vial serum. She knew she did not fit in with this crowd, did not blend in with their unnatural youth, but she did not care.

"I admire her courage," Arvella began, daring to look Balem once more in his eyes, "for it takes more courage to show one's flaws than to hide underneath a cowl of something we are not."

Balem's jaw tightened ever so slightly at her words, his eyes straining to fight back a few stray tears.

"You need not waste away like this," he whispered lowly, his voice shaking, "Arvella, I love you, and always will. I will not lose you like I have lost her."

Arvella gazed into his eyes for the longest time, taking in the regret they emitted, the sorrow, the rage. She could tell he was tormented, she knew that he was very close with his mother, but there was nothing she could do for him now, it was too late.

"Then let me go," Arvella whispered back to him, her gaze firm as she moved past him. She half-expected him to chase after her, to grab at her arm and refuse to let her go, but he didn't. She did not know which would have hurt more, but for now, she knew she had to keep moving forward, and she did not look back.

She knew that she would never see him again.


	15. Cycles

The ships moved in, unloaded, took off. Several times a minute, the same process, massive ships. In, then out, in, then out. He watched them tirelessly, watched as they carried in new shipments, carried in the bounty from the most recent harvest. They would continue this process for a few more days now, as it had been an exceptionally robust planet. Good for business, as usual.

He leaned against his sofa lazily, a single finger propping up his head as he crossed one leg over the other. There was a certain peace he found while watching his factory flourish, a certain relaxation he found from watching the rusty storm clouds swirl endlessly above him. He found peace in his work, stability, found peace in knowing that this greatness was his destiny.

"Lord Balem."

His thoughts were disturbed by a familiar crackling of a voice and the scuttled footsteps that followed. Balem raised a hand and the footsteps stopped.

"Why have you bothered me, Chicanery?" Balem croaked, his voice raspy and quiet.

He heard the pale figure behind him swallow hard, could sense the sweat beginning to trail down his skin. Whatever news his advisor brought, it was not going to be good.

"Apologies, my lord," Chicanery stammered, bowing his head as he wrung his hands in front of him, "but I bring news from the Silaverius Estate."

Balem's breath hitched in his throat when the name crossed his ears. It had been a name he had not heard in a long time, a name he had not wished to hear ever again. So many memories rushed through his head, her laugh, her smile, her eyes, her touch. They were so warm, so welcome, but now they cut him like knives.

He glanced down to notice that his hand was now clenched, his nails digging into the palm of his hand as he shook. No, he had to regain himself, had to keep his calm.

"And what news is this?" He managed quietly, voice shaking, just on the edge of shattering.

"It is news of Lady Arvella," Chicanery managed, trembling, "her family has stated she is in a critical state and she is not expected to make it through the evening. They have requested your presence, that is, if you wish to say your goodbyes."

The silence that followed was deafening. Balem felt something snap within him, something that he had not felt for a very long time, not since he had last seen his mother alive. Was it anger? No, rage?

Something was building inside of him, the pain, the loss, it was going to happen all over again. No, he could not bear it.

With that, Balem stood up silently, his dark robes folding around him in the cool silence. Shaking, he folded his hands in front of him, keeping his head high, refusing to turn and face his advisor. Looking ahead at his factory, his legacy, his eyes began to sting with tears as he fought them back.

"Prepare a ship at once," Balem ordered, voice trembling as a stray tear trickled down his cheek, "NOW!"

His sudden outburst caused Chicanery to jump back, and immediately the advisor bowed with respect.

"At once my lord," he stammered, backing away with another nervous bow. With that, he turned around, racing away to what Balem could only assume was to alert the docking bay of his departure.

When he was sure Chicanery had left, Balem turned his head to look down the corridor, quickly wiping a racing tear on his sleeve. He had no time to waste, for there was no time at all.

He quickly turned around and strode quickly down the hall, his boots clicking against the floor noisily. He glanced over to the tall windows before him, caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror-like walls. He was aged, his hair graying, appearing to be in his mid-forties. He had not used Abrasax for a long time, for sometimes he did not see a point. He looked away, the wrinkles reminding him too much of his mother as he continued, hands folded as he headed for his ship. He had to make it there, he had to get to her.

The palace was so different than the last time he had seen it. The marble columns, the beautiful gardens, they were all still there, so immaculate and rich. The marbled floors glistened when he walked over them, the pale sunlight that crept through the decorative windows and passed over his face, such warm air. And yet, everything was different.

The moment he had stepped onto the planet he had felt it. A heaviness, a certain darkness that took hold of every ounce of his being, a feeling of utmost dread. It suffocated him, made him want to turn back, for he had felt this before, it had been there the night his mother died; Death.

Now he was running out of time. He moved quickly, almost gliding across the floor like a phantom force, paying no mind to the various other visitors lining the halls, whispering their well-wishes and prayers. He ignored their stares, their lies, their insults and praise. He didn't need them, she didn't need them.

When he finally reached the grand ivory doors he paused, watching as a few visitors exited. One shook their head, the other merely laughed.

"What a waste."

Balem would have torn his throat out if the circumstances were different, but instead he reached out for the handle and took a deep breath.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

The voice made him freeze, for he had wished he wouldn't have heard that particular one here. He made no move to turn his head, and instead stared at the door in front of him, seemingly ignoring who had addressed him.

Titus stepped forward so he was standing beside his brother, hands neatly folded behind his back, that unending smirk across his face.

"I'm being entirely serious dear brother," Titus chimed, stepping to the side so Balem could see him clearly, "she looks absolutely dreadful, like one of those mummies buried in the sand for thousands of years. Almost as bad as you if I might say."

Balem had every right to knock the living daylights out of Titus, and right when he clenched his fist another voice had chimed in.

"Now, now Titus," Kalique scolded, approaching the two as she stood on Balem's other side, "now is not the time to make insults."

Balem turned his head to acknowledge his sister, who since the last time he had seen her had not yet used Abrasax. She appeared to be the same age as him for the time being, the only exception being the ever-vain Titus.

"Kalique," Balem nodded, his voice quiet as he tried to disguise the trembling.

"I'm glad you came, Balem," Kalique sighed, offering an empathetic smile, "she would have wanted you here."

"Please," Titus interrupted with a laugh, "if she had actually wanted you here wouldn't you think she would have made some sort of attempt to contact you these last ninety years?"

Balem turned his head to face Titus, his eyes narrowing as his jaw clenched. Titus always knew exactly what to say to get on Balem's nerves, knew exactly how to shorten his temper. At this point, Balem would usually have a sarcastic comeback, a way of shutting up his brother. Now, he had nothing, for deep down he knew that his brother was right.

"Obviously she lived a happy, full life," Titus smirked, taking a moment to look over the palace, "she has accomplished so much for her family. Did you know she managed to cut fuel usage for the new models by three hundred and twenty percent? Simply stunning, and all done without you."

His words cut deeply into Balem, almost as if he had torn out his heart. As much as he didn't want to hear those words, he knew he would have heard them at one point. She didn't need him to make her happy, to make her life worth living.

"Titus!" Kalique hissed, snapping at her brother like a crocodile.

Balem watched as Titus shied away ever so slightly, his jaw tightly closing as he watched the venom in Kalique's eyes. It was a look Balem had seen many times before, a look that could even bring Titus down from his pedestal.

"You should go, Balem," Kalique insisted, gesturing to the door, "you need to say your goodbyes, she hasn't got much time left."

Kalique opened the door for Balem, nodding for him to enter. Balem knew Kalique was right, but after listening to Titus he doubted himself. He did not wish to cause more pain to Arvella, did not wish to see her in such a state. He didn't know what to expect, but at the same time he knew exactly what was to happen. He nodded, wordless and silent, as he entered the chamber, giving one last look to Kalique before turning away, and the door shut behind him.

The darkness that Balem had felt before was even stronger now that he had entered the chamber. The room was darkened, the windows covered with placid blue drapes, only trickles of faint sunlight made it through. Balem could feel the weight on his chest only growing heavier as he made his way slowly across the room, to the place he dreaded to near.

The bed was grand, old in looks as it mimicked a much simpler time. The grand oak headboard was ornately decorated, the canopy above it looming with such violet, quiet grace.

"Hello, Balem."

His eyes traveled from the bed to three figures who stood beside it, so palid and still, as if they were carved from marble. He met the striking golden eyes of Batair, his blonde hair so lifeless in the dimly lit room. He was just as young as Balem had remembered him, no doubt the Abrasax had been working its miracle on him for a very long time. Beside the young Lord stood his parents, the Lord and Lady Silaverius. They too looked as if they had been indulging a bit too much. They no longer looked their middle-aged self, with graying hairs and hairline wrinkles, now they looked like completely different people, two fake-looking figures.

"Lord Batair," Balem nodded to him, then glanced over to the parents, "Lord and Lady Silaverius."

The two nodded in return almost simultaneously, both expressions so grim and solemn. He could tell both had been crying for quite some time, they were doing their best not to release any more tears.

"She would have wanted you here," Lady Silaverius nodded, her voice no more than just a hoarse whisper.

"Please, spare me of those lies," he whispered back, the sadness seeping into his expression. He didn't need their condolences, didn't need their lies and pity. He knew the truth, Arvella had wanted nothing to do with him and his family since she had left them. She had made no effort to come in contact with them, made no point to sit and talk with him, the last time he had seen her was at his mother's funeral. Why she had bothered to attend was beyond him. Perhaps she had felt guilty and wanted to make an effort to clear her own conscience, or perhaps she had hoped to see him. Whatever the reason, it was all too late now, and this would be the last time he would see her.

He barely recognized her when he approached the skeletal figure lying in bed. Her once glowing auburn hair was now as white as freshly fallen snow, so fine and faint it surrounded her in waves. Her skin was merely a shell of what it once was, so paper thin and shriveled. It wrapped around her sullen cheekbones like a sheet. The swirling designs in her skin had faded as well, their glow only faintly shimmering in the light.

He walked up next to her as if he were approaching a frightened animal, kneeled beside her bed so quietly and gently. At first, he was afraid to touch her, afraid to utter anything as he was afraid to harm her any further.

"Arvella," he whispered quietly, reaching a hand across the bed. He rested it atop of hers beside her, nearly reeling back from the coldness of her skin. He relaxed and wrapped it around hers gently, rubbing his thumb across her fragile skin. "I'm here."

Her eyes opened just barely at first at the sound of his voice, barely slits as they blinked shut once more. But when he touched her, when he had told her he was here, they opened the widest they had been in a long time. If everything else had been unrecognizable about her, her bright violet eyes were not. He then knew it was his Arvella he held in his hand, the same woman he had loved so long ago. Those bright eyes of her stared at the ceiling for the longest time, until they found their way to his.

When her gaze reached his it was enough to make him nearly weep. It didn't take her more than a second to recognize him, but the feeling he got from them, remorse, regret, anger, those feelings came back to him in waves. He waited, waited for the longest time for her to say something, anything, but only silence followed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choking back the sobs he had tried so hard to hold in, "for everything."

Her eyes still held the same stare, the coldness, the sadness. His words had changed nothing and he found himself weeping, weeping over the time he had lost with her, the time he had given up.

"Please, let me make it up to you," he sobbed, squeezing her hand tightly, "I can show you, I can change. Please don't let your life go to waste, I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you."

Her violet eyes blinked slowly at his words, but her expression, it had softened ever so slightly.

"Balem," she whispered, her voice course and weak.

Balem brought his face closer to hers, eager to hear whatever she had to say to him.

"Please, let me go."

Her words nearly sent him over the edge, the amount of agony he felt was beyond repair. After all this time, after all they had been through, she still wanted nothing more to do with him. A mixture of pure sorrow and rage filled his core, the same feeling he had felt when his mother had given up on her own life. A feeling of Deja Vu swept over him, and for a moment he saw the face of his pleading mother once more.

"I won't let you die like she did," he told her hoarsely through gritted teeth, "I won't let you..."

At that moment Arvella closed her eyes, her breathing shallowing out. He felt her grip grow colder, he knew these were her last moments. Without thinking, he scooped up her fragile body into his arms, ignoring the shouting and protests from her family. He had forgotten what was running through his head as he made his way across the ship, holding her tightly to his chest, she barely weighed anything at all.

When he reached the pool he paused, wondering what he was doing. No, this wasn't what Arvella would have wanted at all, he knew that. But when he looked down at her face, watched as her breathing grew more and more scarce, he knew that he couldn't lose her, not like his mother.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the clear pool, feeling the coolness of the serum seeping into his robes, clinging onto his skin. He brought her into the pool with him, watching as her life began to slip away, she was almost gone. Slowly, he submerged her body, holding his breath as he dove into it as well, holding her close to him. He opened his eyes, watching as the serum glowed blue around them, wrapping around their skin in a dance of colors. He watched as her face transformed, her skin regaining the life and light it had once held.

Unable to hold his breath any longer, he re-emerged, gasping for air. He brought her up with him, bringing her head above the pool. He watched the beads of serum roll off her pale skin, her youthful face recognizable once more. he smiled at her, running his hand down her cheek, waited for her to open her eyes and smile at him like she had done so long ago.

Except, she didn't.


	16. Eden

For some reason, Arvella had expected this to turn out differently. From what she had been told many times throughout her unnaturally extended life, death was something to be feared. It was painful, it was long, it was something to be avoided at all costs. People treated it like it was an unnatural and unfortunate occurrence, something that could be easily treated, like a common cold. Yet, as she lay still in her deathbed, eyes shut as she reflected calmly over her many years, she felt at peace.

She knew this was the end.

Her body was finally shutting down after overstaying her welcome in the universe. The very heart that kept the blood coursing through her veins, the lungs that provided her with pure energy, they were slowly coming to a halt. Still, she felt no pain, no deep longing fear of what was to come, only a certain knowledge that this was all right.

Of course she heard many people coming and going, sobs and sneers that towered over her. She supposed many thought that she had lost her senses in her current state, she was sure they would have been mortified if they knew otherwise. She recognized the eerily young voices of her mother and father, it was funny how the thought of growing old had made them addicted to Regenex. Even when she had warned them about how it was produced, they still continued its use. How vain. Her brother was there as well, no doubt he was still using the substance too.

She was surprised when the Abrasaxes paid her a visit, at least Titus and Kalique. Titus' sharp remarks and laughs, Kalique's tongue clicks of disapproval. They soon left, and Arvella's sense of peace began to slowly fade away. The one sibling that was missing, the one man who had so long ago held her in his arms, who had embraced her and made her feel whole again. He wasn't with them. He wasn't there to hold her hand, to comfort her into whatever fate she was destined for. He hadn't been there to laugh with her, to grow old with her. No children to run around their feet, no sweet memories to share with one another. Whatever memories they had left, Arvella had let them fade into a distant dream. At least only the good ones. A reality that was never meant to be.

"I'm here."

Those words, that voice. No, it was a cruel trick of the universe just before her passing. And yet, with every last ounce of strength she could muster, she opened her eyes. She half-expected to see a ghost before her, and perhaps it still was. Before her was the Balem she remembered from nearly a century ago. His features hadn't changed a day, and yet his eyes were like a storm. Waves of emotion, maybe pain or regret, sadness and despair. He was a shell of what he once was, and when he opened his mouth it only confirmed his turmoiled state.

"I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you."

His words were enough to make her heart feel as if it were lurching out of her chest, a feeling she had not felt for a very long time, not since she had last seen him at his mother's funeral. No, he was ruining the peace she had craved, that final moment she had worked so hard for.

"Please let me go."

Those four words had exhausted her, had taken every last bit of energy she had left. She just wanted to be alone now, wanted to be finished with the life she had lived. For the last time, her eyes closed, and her world began to drift away.

Then, she woke up.

The first thing to fill her senses was the buzzing of insects and the sounds of songbirds. Under her fingers that she began to wiggle she felt the tickling of fresh grass, and the smell of it was enough to make her want to open her eyes.

The brightness of the world she found herself in blinded her momentarily, but once she was used to it the sight of this place she found herself in took her breath away.

In a way it reminded her of her homeworld, the rolling green hills of thick forests, the sounds of creeks trickling around her, open fields of lush grasses and life. Yet, it was not her home, it was all too familiar and different all at the same time.

Slowly, she sat up, taking in her environment as she took steady breaths. She grinned as she ran a hand over the grass, enjoying the feel of it once more, as she had spent far too much of her life on her family's growing lines of ships. She paused though when she noticed her hand.

Her skin, no longer thin and showing the veins that pulsed beneath it, no longer wrinkly and calloused from years of hard-work, were once again youthful and vibrant.

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

The voice made Arvella slightly jump, the voice being so distinct and familiar. When she raised her head, she was surprised to see Seraphi smiling down at her.

The former Abrasax matriarch was not how Arvella had last seen her. In her casket she had been old and frail, now she looked as she did was she was using the Regenex. She was so youthful and vibrant, and yet her eyes shined with the knowledge she had possessed over many centuries. She wore a gown that was so ethereal, a shade of green she had never seen before. It was like a dream.

"Do not be afraid, my child," Seraphi beckoned, offering her hands to Arvella to help her stand. Her voice was so warm, so kind, just as she had remembered her.

Slowly, Arvella took her hands, rising to her feet. Arvella looked down, seeing she was wearing a beautiful ivory gown, delicate tulle flowers accented it, the color slowly fading into a light aqua, just like a pool of water around her feet. The fabric shimmered like no other material she had seen before, it was as if it were crafted out of stardust itself.

"I-I don't understand," Arvella managed, slightly surprised at her youthful voice, "are we- I mean, am I dead?"

"In a way, I suppose," Seraphi sighed, folding her hands in front of her as she looked dreamily at their surroundings, "I like to think of this as a new beginning, a fresh start if you will."

The way she smiled at Arvella made her feel so comforted, made her feel so welcomed. Arvella took in the forest around her, of the beautiful clearing she had somehow managed to wake up in.

"It's so beautiful," Arvella smiled, and yet as she took in the paradise around her, she couldn't help but uncover a familiar pain. She must had showed this, for Seraphi's smile turned into an expression of concern.

"There's something troubling you, isn't there?"

Arvella turned away, bowing her head as she tried to cast out the last thoughts she had of Balem. Of his words, his apologies, all of the empty promises he had made to her. It was enough to make her heart ache with despair, enough to make her nearly sick to her stomach.

"We all come into this new life with regrets," Seraphi breathed, walking up beside Arvella, "I came here with many."

Arvella turned her head to look at Seraphi, the woman of many centuries looking up dreamily to the sky above.

"I left a legacy of destruction and greed," she half-laughed, although her voice was laced with pain, "I've allowed my own children to be corrupted with all of those trivial things, things that in the end, they do not matter."

Arvella watched as a single tear trailed down Seraphi's cheek, and soon after her own eyes welled with tears.

"My sweet Arvella," Seraphi smiled, looking to the young Silaverius, "I do not want you to die with the same regrets that I must forever carry with me now."

"Balem," Arvella finally spoke, closing her eyes as the name left her lips.

"He is my biggest regret," Seraphi nodded, "I alone ruined him. I encouraged him to make this empire of death industrialized, I wanted him to carry on my legacy. If I had known what this would lead to, to what kind of monsters this turned my family into, I would have never created it."

Arvella opened her eyes once more, looking to the now sorrowful Seraphi. Her eyes told unspeakable truths into what she had seen, what she had done. In her Arvella saw herself, someone who would regret her life for all eternity.

"You must go back to him," Seraphi begged, her lips trembling as she turned to Arvella. She took her hands in hers, facing her with pleading eyes.

"Please, you're the only one who can change his course. Show him the happiness he craves, destroy this terrible legacy I have left him."

Arvella shook her head, her tears now freely flowing. Shutting her eyes tightly only caused more to fall, she felt so conflicted.

"I just want to leave it all behind," she sobbed suddenly , shoulders shaking, "my family, my legacy, Balem, I want everything to disappear."

In that moment Arvella tore her hands away from Seraphi, and she found herself falling. The paradise she had once seen began to fall away from her, and she was grasping into darkness. The last thing she saw were Seraphi's sorrowful eyes.

Just as she had arrived, everything faded into an abyssal blackness once more.


	17. Abrasax

No, this couldn't be the end.

Balem's emerald eyes frantically scanned her face, searching for any miniscule signs of life. A twitch of her mouth, a simple breath from her lips, anything would have been welcomed at this point. But as the moments turned to seconds, to minutes, Balem's hope began to die.

His hands shook as he held her lifeless form, jaw trembling as he fought to hold back his tears. For a moment he was holding his mother, lifeless in his arms as he had taken her world away from her. Now, it was happening all over again, and he was truly and finally alone.

"Oh now look," the shrewd voice of Titus broke the silence, "how did I know I could find you in here? Now this is just pathetic, brother."

Balem looked away from him, trying to tune out his voice as he held Arvella even closer, as if protecting her from Titus as he had done before.

The hurried clicks of Kalique's clamorous heels followed, she blew into the room holding up her flowing dark gown as not to trip on it. She came to an abrupt stop next to Titus, looking at the scene of Balem and his former love submerged in the glittering pool.

"Oh Balem," Kalique sighed in disbelief, dropping the hem of her gown to her feet, "what have you done?"

"She's gone." Balem's voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and cracking as his hand caressed her motionless face.

"Well did you try kissing her to wake her up?" Titus cracked, earning a sharp elbow in the side from his sister.

"This is absolutely no time to be joking around," she snapped, glaring daggers at Titus, "can't you see how grave this situation is for us? Just wait until her family comes in and sees this mess!"

Balem had tuned out his sibling's quarrelling, his life now resting in Arvella's stillness. The reality of the situation began to sink in, and it was now that Balem could feel the weight of everything bearing down on his shoulders. Arvella Silaverius, second heir to her family's dynasty, beloved sister and daughter, a pioneer to her family's business, his love- she was gone. Whatever life that was left in her, whatever hope he had clung onto, the Regenex must have taken it away from her when it had given her youthful appearance. Whatever life she was clinging onto, she had now let go. She had wanted him to let her go, but why was he finding it so hard to do now?

Slowly, he dragged himself out of the pool, his black hair hanging loosely into his face, carrying his love bridal-style with him. He sunk down to the floor beside the pool, resting Arvella down beside him, her head on his lap. He brushed wet strads of her scarlet hair away from her face, brushed his fingers along her full lips. Arvella Silaverius was gone.

"Leave us," Balem whispered, his dark eyes unwavering ahead of him.

"I assure you this situation isn't going to-" Titus started.

"LEAVE!"

Balem's scream made them jump, causing Kalique to grab Titus' arm rushing him away as she knew Balem's temper far too well. With that, the two siblings were gone as quickly as they had come.

"I know I cannot change what has happened in the past," Balem choked, turning his attention back to Arvella, "but please, please come back to me."

He could no longer hold back his tears and he wept, bending down to rest his forehead on Arvella's. She was so cold to the touch, her shimmering markings now dull and forgotten. For a moment, he imagined that they were back on his ship, lying in bed and whispering meaningless secrets between them. Exchanging hopes and memories, ideas and laughs. He saw it as if it were just yesterday they were so deep in what they had, and yet it was so distant. If only he could go back, if only he could make her see.

He jumped when his thoughts were interrupted with a sharp gasp, leaning back on his hands he watched as Arvella's chest heaved, her mouth gasping for air. She rolled over onto her stomach, elbow's propping herself on the floor as she curled up, choking on the serum that had gotten into her lungs. As she heaved up the water Balem could barely believe his eyes, perhaps he was imagining all of this. No, Arvella was dead, he had established that, but what was happening now?

Arvella's breathing slowly began to even out, her coughing coming to a stop once she had evacuated the serum out of her airway. Exhausted, she sat up and sunk onto her knees, eyes closed as she regained her strength little by little.

"Arvella?" Balem whispered, reaching out a hand to touch her cheek. She leaned into his touch, eyes slowly opening as she looked to him, her expression exhausted yet full of life.

Balem couldn't help but smile, embracing her in his arms tightly, his lips resting by her ear.

"I thought I had lost you," he choked, running his fingers through her wet amber curls, "I'll never lose you again."

"Balem," she finally managed after a few moments, her voice weak, "what have you done?"


	18. Echoes

It had seemed like eons since Arvella had awoken from her dream of Seraphi, when she opened her eyes to see her beloved leaking crystal pools of stars from his stormy jade eyes. Oh how she had missed his sweet words from years she had let decay before her, how she had missed his gentle touches, his whisper of a voice in her ear. It was these simple, trivial things she had craved in her years of near solitude, yet something about his presence made her uneasy and guarded. That was one of the reasons she had avoided Balem for the last two weeks, that and for the fact that he had dipped her in the very product she had spent 90 years boycotting from her body. Still, he pursued her like a lion would a wounded gazelle.

Day after day she was delivered exquisite gifts, collars and brooches encrusted with precious stones, dresses that any woman or even man would be envious of. Not only that but stacks and stacks of ancient tomes, novels and scrolls from every reach of the galaxy, stories that Arvella couldn't even begin to fathom. Balem certainly did know of her fondness for books, and yet that still was not enough for her to throw herself back into his arms.

These gifts, none of them she accepted. Although they appeared to be harmless tokens of his love and obsession with her, she was already exposed to how he got these riches to pay for such extraordinary gifts. No doubt millions of lives bled into her silk gowns, echoes of screams tore through each and every book that came into her home. Every jewel and ounce of gold reflected another pale face, another lifeless shell. No, she would never accept his death laden bribes.

In the two weeks since her awakening, she had spent her time back on her home planet Cenus, her small piece of paradise in this vast ever-expanding universe. She loved her home, yes, endless violet skies painted with perfect clouds, green lush grasses and trees stretched endlessly on the horizon. The air was clean and untouched by harmful pollutants. It was truly a garden of Eden, and yet she still felt like an alien in this world.

She stepped outside onto her balcony, the cool night air dancing across her skin, the glowing light of her planet's two moons made her lavender markings come to life. She looked up at the endless night sky, azure and golden nebulas were painted across millions and millions of bright stars. She could pick out other planets among these delicate and distant lights, she could name almost every star. How she loved the expanse of space, the endless possibilities that awaited at every reach. She loved the stories each new place told, some stories that would never be told. It all had seemed so close to her at one point, a destiny she could grasp just within her fingertips. She had once tasted this life, a life to travel among the stars, to be an heir to something so much more than just an empire of metal ships. Now, what was she even an heir to anymore?

"Lady Arvella," a voice suddenly interrupted, "you have received a message from Lord Balem."

Arvella sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned to face the hired help. She was just a young girl, not a genetic splice, but a simple thing who helped Arvella manage her sometimes demanding schedule.

"If it is another package please just send it back as I have instructed before," Arvella ordered with a rather annoyed tone.

"No my lady, it is not a package this time, just a simple letter," the small girl squeaked, revealing a golden disc as she handed it over to Arvella.

She was hesitant at first, as this was unlike Balem to simply send a message alone. Something was off about this entire thing, or perhaps he had finally taken a hint after getting all of his gifts returned to him.

She took the disc gently, nodding the girl away as she gently tapped the front. The small disc began to glow, and opened slightly to project a short message in front of her. Slowly, she began to read its contents.

Dearest Arvella,

I do hope you are well. I would like for us to discuss our future business dealings tomorrow over dinner. My coordinates will be relayed to you shortly, I am looking forward to seeing you.

Best Regards,

Balem Abrasax

Arvella was surprised on how short his invitation was. No apologies, no love-soaked words enough to make her gag. It was unusual for him, especially with how suffocating he had been lately with his letters and gifts. Something was off about this entire situation, and yet she felt as if she couldn't refuse.

She tapped the front of the disc again, the invitation disappearing. She closed her eyes, grasping the back of the balcony railing she leaned against it, rolling her head back into the night breeze once more. Her amber curls fell in a waterfall behind her and for a moment she allowed herself to be lost.

Ever since her strange afterlife meeting with the Abrasax matriarch, she couldn't shake her words. She had loved her son so dearly, she had wanted him so desperately to change at the end of her time. She had entrusted Arvella to change him, to turn him into the son she had once treasured. Arvella knew that Seraphi had asked far too much of her. How was she to help someone who couldn't see their own wrongdoings? Not only that, Arvella couldn't even manage to forgive him herself. He was blind to his own destruction, or perhaps he wasn't. A part of her hoped that he hadn't accepted this ill-fitting destiny, that he hadn't completely turned himself into the monster she feared him to be. For the first time in a very long time, she was frightened to the core.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the disc in her hand began to glow and shake. Standing straight again she forced herself to look at it, where a faint glow of numbers flashed before her eyes, a final beckoning.

She bit her lip and stepped back inside, casting aside her doubts and fears for a moment. It was time to prepare a ship for tomorrow evening, time for her to prepare for whatever fate had in store for her next.


	19. Negotiations

Balem slowly inhaled as he emerged from the glistening pool. His thin fingers ran through his hair on either side, feeling it as it regained its former strength and luster. Although he had just used his family's dynasty only months ago, he had wanted everything to be perfect tonight, including himself. He could feel every cell in his body being rejuvenated, being reborn into their prime states. He could be no less than perfect for the company he had arriving tonight, he would show no weakness.

Carefully he stepped out of the pool, adorning himself in a glittering deep golden robe. Tiny metal insects whirred around him, drying him off in less than a second. He paced over to a large window on his ship, looking out at the vast galaxy before him. When he was younger he had been so awestruck with the endless expanse of what was around him, but now, it all seemed so insignificant compared to the empire he was building now. In his eyes, he was equivalent to a god now, he created and destroyed life as he pleased, he controlled who perished, and who ascended.

He closed his eyes, his memories fading to the face he was expecting tonight. He could already hear her laugh, see her delicate smile. Her violet eyes dancing in the starlight they had both admired so long ago. They were so young then, so full of hopes and dreams. Their destinies had once been aligned, and then everything collapsed.

He knew very well that Arvella did not agree with his line of business, she made that very apparent when she had seen the makings of his new refinery. However, that alone did not persuade him to change his ways. He couldn't simply abandon what made the name Abrasax highly esteemed, he couldn't destroy the legacy his mother had created for him to thrive on.

His mother.

He slammed his fist down onto the window, the glass shuddering under his power, yet it made no notions to crack or shatter. He turned away from it, casting aside his memories of her, of her face and voice, of her cries and screams. No, he wouldn't remember her, not like that.

His quickly wiped away a stray tear with the back of his hand, in the same motion flicking the small transmission device behind his ear. In an instant his robe disappeared, being replaced with a black suit, the collar high and a cape lined with a glittering silver material. His hair was instantly put in place, every strand of dark hair slicked back in place.

A small ping from the device behind his ear signaled to him there was an incoming ship. Normally it was never anything to get excited about, but he knew the person who would soon warp off was enough to make his palms sweat, his heart quicken in pace. As he left the room he paused to look at his reflection in the large mirror that took up the entire wall. He was truly flawless, his skin didn't show a single blemish, aside from the natural freckles that dotted his skin. However, when he looked into his eyes it was there he saw his only imperfection. His emerald eyes he had inherited from his mother, that same shade that seemed to haunt him every day. It was the one thing he desired to change about himself, and yet he never underwent the procedure to change them into a more desirable and forgettable shade. He forced himself to look away and continued through the sliding metal doors.

His guards were beside him in an instant, standing on either side of him but a few steps behind, as not to take away from his presence. Balem kept his hands folded neatly in front of him, pointed down in a triangle like shape. He tried so hard to remain calm, to keep his face as emotionless as possible. He wanted to have the higher ground in this situation, he didn't want her to see how weak she made him. Weakness was in a way admitting defeat, and he wouldn't allow himself to stoop to that level.

However, what he saw next he would have never been able to mentally prepare himself for.

Arvella Silaverius walked through the sliding doors like a vision. Her posture was so straight, so composed. She hadn't aged a day since he had seen her a couple weeks ago, her pale skin flawless, her markings trailing her exposed skin like rivers on a map. The dress she wore hugged her figure, her curves well accented by the tight material. No, it wasn't one of the expensive gowns he had sent her, but nonetheless it was stunning on her. It was a light gray color, the shade of a cloudy sky a day after the rain, accented with a pattern of delicate swirls of lace in the same color. The dress was sheer along either side of her legs, stopping just at her hips. The dress was sleeveless, coming down into a sweetheart neckline that complimented her bust quite well, accents of gold lined the top and just along her torso. She had left her hair down, her curls of crimson cascading over her shoulder, the other side was pinned with small delicate pearls. Yes, she was just as he had remembered her last.

"Lady Arvella," Balem finally spoke, composing himself as he bowed his head, "you look as ravishing as ever."

Arvella stared him down for a moment, her expression stern yet soft. She was always so easy to falter, so easy to read. There was an uncertainty in her eyes, almost fearful in a way. The idea nearly made him smirk, he knew his presence was a controlling one, a powerful one.

"Balem," she greeted at last, nodding her head in return, "and you look well, as usual."

He frowned slightly at her response, it seemed so standard, so well thought out. That was not the woman he knew before, someone who prided herself on her wit and confidence. This was not the woman who had put his brother Titus in his place, not the woman who had stood up to him so many decades before.

Drawing a stiff breath he approached her, offering his arm for her to take, signaling for his guards to leave them be.

"I'm afraid we have much to discuss," Balem smiled, his voice a soft whisper.

He could tell Arvella was hesitant to take his arm, but she did so gently. It took every ounce of his being not to shudder at her touch, her thin fingers resting on his bicep. He led her down the corridor of the ship, leading her into a large room. It was empty save for the massive seamless domed window that looked out into space, the floor a deep ebony marble that reflected the starry sky. He felt Arvella's grasp on him release as she walked awestruck into the empty room.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" He breathed, stepping beside Arvella once more, "trillions of stars and planets all within our grasp, and yet so distant."

He glanced down to her, watching her wide eyes look at the expanse before her, as if she were seeing it for the first time. For a moment he saw the same woman he had fallen in love with all of those years ago, for a moment they were both young once more, immune to the world around them. He raised a hand, resting it on her shoulder softly, and then reality set in once more.

Arvella seemed to snap out of whatever daze she had settled in to, and rolled her shoulder to remove his hand. She stepped forward towards the window, away from Balem, and he felt the pain of rejection from her once more.

"Exactly why did you summon me here in the first place?" She demanded sternly, folding her arms behind her back, "what matters of our 'business' did you wish to discuss?"

For some reason her tone sounded condescending, sarcastic in the way her words rolled off of her tongue. She seemed annoyed, confused, no, her emotions were so hard to pin down.

He stiffened his jaw, trying so desperately to keep his emotions under control. Too many times he felt like a ticking bomb ready to explode, leaving his emotions unchecked could lead to disaster. He took a deep breath and stepped towards her once more, this time turning so he was in front of her.

"I just want to talk about us," he finally breathed, reaching out with a shaking hand as he rested a finger under her chin. Slowly, he raised it up, so that her amethyst eyes were staring into his.

"What is there to discuss?" Arvella shook her head, her voice finally cracking, "we've both gone our own separate paths, we decided that so long ago."

Balem frowned, her tone was so sad, so lost. It pained him to think that he made her hurt so badly, but why?

"Everything that I have done, everything that I have built," he began, shaking his head as his voice began to shake, "it has been for us, for you."

Arvella's brows furrowed, her expression pained, mixed with an undeniable rage. She took a step back, away from his touch, her hands turning to fists at her side.

"For me? For us?" She cried out, looking around the room outstretched surrounding them, "you've expanded your family's legacy into a system of mass murder!"

This was exactly what Balem had feared, things were quickly getting out of control, out of his grasp. He was losing her, he wouldn't let himself lose her again.

"You said it yourself!" He screamed, no longer able to keep his anger bottled, "you told me you didn't want to die!"

He was shaking so badly now, his jaw trembled, his eyes wide with tears. No, he wouldn't lose her like this, he had already decided this.

"That was before I learned the price I had to pay for it," Arvella sobbed, her anger dissipating into her tears, "you've changed Balem, you no longer crave the stars like I once did, you no longer care what happens to us. Seraphi wanted so much more for you, she wanted you to live the life she never had, she would have-"

"ENOUGH!" Balem charged her like a raging bull, seizing her by the throat and slamming her up against the glass. He no longer saw her, no longer saw the light that had graced his life, no longer saw the love he had cherished above all things before. Instead, he saw the face of his mother, gasping for air, struggling under his powerful grasp.

"You never cared about me!" He screamed at her, his grip tightening, "you left me alone, you left me without a single remorse!"

"Balem...please," she choked, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hand clasped around his wrist, a desperate move to save herself. Her words, however, caused Balem to release his grip as he saw Arvella's face replace his mother's, and in horror realized what he had done.

Quickly he let her go,stepping away, watching helplessly as she collapsed onto the floor before him in a heap. She was so still, so lifeless, and as he bent down to assess the damage he had caused, he was relieved when he saw her taking shallow breaths.

"My starlight," he breathed, running a hand over her cheek, "what have I done?"


	20. Desire

Screaming, pain, air, darkness. Memories flashed through her head like a never ending nightmare. She saw him, stormy eyes blazing like a wildfire, untamable, out of control. No, it was not the Balem she knew, she refused to believe he was entirely gone, slipping away from her grasp like a dandelion in the wind. She couldn't let him go, she wouldn't let herself fall again. Then, he let go. The last thing she saw were his eyes, the eyes she had fallen in love with, the eyes that had shared so many secrets and hopes with her. They were his again, and then everything vanished.

—

Arvella tossed and turned, mumbling in her sleep as she began to wake. Her eyes opened slightly, greeted with a comforting warmth and darkness. She found herself in a rather large bed, a lush mattress under her that felt like a cloud, a thick blue comforter covering her bare form. Wait, what happened to her clothes? Puzzled, she turned over in the bed, nearly jumping out of her skin when she saw Balem laying next to her, the blanket covering his lower half, his torso bare.

He propped himself on his elbow, eyes hungrily taking in her own body, causing Arvella to draw the blanket to cover herself more. Exactly how had they gotten here in the first place?

"Isn't this everything you have ever wanted?" Balem smiled, reaching out to touch her cheek, "just you and me, together for eternity."

Arvella closed her eyes, sighing into his touch as he caressed her face, realizing how much she missed his gentle hands. She reached up and placed her hand on his, easing back into reality as her eyes slowly blinked open.

"But it can't be this way," she whispered airily, pulling his hand away from her cheek.

She watched Balem's expression change, no, it wasn't anger she saw but a confusion. A uncertainness passed through his eyes, his smile fading. He withdrew his hand, reaching back behind his ear, and with a simple flick everything changed.

Arvella now found herself on a beach, she felt the warmth of the sand seep between her bare toes, the crashing of the waves as they came to the shore. The air was salty and cool, a breeze blowing at her damp curls. She looked down to see she was wearing a sheer white dress adorned with intricate flowers and jewels that trailed down her arms like a growing vine. It was beautiful, but now she knew it was all fabricated.

When she looked up Balem stood before her, he wore a deep gray outfit that allowed his chest to be bare, his pants a shimmering indigo that mimicked the currents of the sea. He stood within inches of her, taking his hands in hers as he rested his forehead against hers, she could feel his warm breath against her skin, sending chills down her spine.

"Then is this what you want?" He breathed, his emerald eyes gazing deeply into hers. "I will give you anything that you desire, I will take you anywhere your heart wants to go."

Arvella was speechless, she felt so intoxicated by his presence, or perhaps it was a combination of the atmosphere around them. She closed her eyes, taking in his scent, the musky cologne he had wore for her, the delicate subtle hint of orchids. He was making her drunk, drunk on just the idea of him, of his bare skin against hers, his lips crashing into her own. She wanted to open her mouth to speak, but before she could do so she felt him slipping something cool onto her finger.

When she opened them she breathed in quickly. Balem had his hand wrapped around hers, and on her finger was the most beautiful ring she had ever laid eyes on. It was so simple, yet elegant in every single way. It was set in white gold, the main stone being a brilliant purple and blue sapphire, and in the center of it sparkled the shape of a star. The outside was accented in diamonds and other precious gems, but none of that mattered to her. Looking up to Balem she was speechless, her mouth open slightly as if to say something, but no words ever came out.

"It was my mother's," Balem whispered, looking up from the ring to Arvella, "she gave it to me in hopes I would give it to you one day."

"Balem I-" Arvella started, but she was soon cut off when he leaned in closer to her.

"Shhh," he hushed her, his lips brushing against hers, "please just say you'll be mine, my starlight."

Before Arvella could voice her answer, she found herself kissing him back. Tangled in his arms she buried her fingers into his hair, her other hand trailing the small of his back. His hands danced across her skin, his one brushing through her tresses of scarlet locks, the other slipping down her back.

Their kiss was passionate and wild. It was something she had been starved of all those years, it felt so right and so wrong. No, it wasn't right, there were still so many things wrong between the two of them. There was his business, the fight they had gotten into before this mess. There were so many loose ends that needed tied up, and yet she could care less. She was trapped in the moment, in this false reality Balem had created just for the two of them. In a reality where nothing could go wrong and it was just them.

Arvella felt his tongue slip into her mouth, eliciting an uncontrollable sigh from her lips. No, this was all wrong. She needed an escape, she needed this all to end. She kissed him back, moving her hand from the entanglement of his hair to just behind his ear, her finger hovering just above the small device. As much as she had wanted this moment to last forever, she knew it must come to an end.

As she tapped the device she opened her eyes to watch as the scenery faded from around them. The ocean vanished as did the sand beneath their feet, and soon they were standing in each other's arms in the empty room with the large windows, Arvella dressed in the same gown she had arrived in.

She broke their kiss, slowly drawing her head away from his as her hands moved to frame his face. She watched as he opened his eyes, clearly confused, and yet they were so full of love, so full of life.

"We cannot live like this," Arvella spoke softly to him, her hands running down his cheeks as she let go of him, "we have changed far too much, too much for our own good. We are dangerous for each other."

Balem frowned, taking her hands in his once more, rubbing his thumb along the ring he had placed on her hand. He looked down at it was he spoke, his voice soft.

"I can change," he croaked, looking back up into her eyes, "I have hurt so many, but I won't be able to live with myself if I hurt you again."

Arvella looked away from his pleading eyes, her heart torn in half. A part of her wanted to run away, to run as fast as she could. Away from the Abrasaxs, away from Regenex and it's poisonous reaches, away from everything she had known and loved. That part of her just wanted to be alone. Yet, the other half yearned for Balem, it needed to be with him. He was her other half, without him she was incomplete. But he was dangerous, unpredictable, he had nearly killed her once before when he had lost his temper. But the danger, the thrill and excitement of the unknown, she loved it, she loved him.

"Balem I-I don't know," she finally managed, her voice cracking as she began to tear-up, "you're unpredictable, dangerous, and yet I can't stop thinking about you."

Balem held her hands tighter, holding them up as he kissed them, trying to ease her pain.

"Please, just say you'll be mine," he begged, his own eyes welling with tears, "you and I, we will conquer this universe together, every reach, every star and planet will be ours to do what we will. Arvella, please, just say it."

She opened her eyes to look into his. His uncertainty, his wild eyes that made her heart leap, the calmness they held just beneath them, it made her want him. Together in this unknown galaxy, but conquering it, being tricked into thinking they were gods. No, that was not the existence she wanted.

"Balem," she choked, releasing her hands from his, "I love you."

With that her own hand went to the device behind her ear, and in a fraction of a second, she was gone.


	21. Secrets

Arvella warped back onto her ship, collapsing onto her knees on the cold metal floor as she sobbed heavily. For a moment it was as if her heart had ripped in two, the tears would not stop flowing and the pain she felt was so raw, so uncontrolled.

She was so distraught she failed to notice the approaching footsteps.

"Well, well, what has my brother done to you now?"

Arvella's sobbing came to a temporary halt when she recognized the unmistakable voice, the unimpressed clicks of his tongue as the heavy steps paced around her. Slowly, she looked up, only to see Titus Abrasax coyly pausing in front of her, hands behind his back.

"Oh my, it's worse than I thought," Titus gasped, crouching before her as he observed her neck, "seems like he's lost his temper again, hasn't he?"

Titus reached a hand out, gently grazing his fingers along her neck, where the red imprints of hands were imprinted onto her fragile skin. He clicked his tongue again, shaking his head as his hand moved to Arvella's cheek, brushing away her tears.

"Such a shame such a pretty girl like yourself is getting all mixed up with my psychotic brother like this…"

"Don't touch me," she hissed, smacking his hand away from her face. The last person she wanted touching her right now was this leech.

"Who gave you permission to board my ship?" Arvella growled through gritted teeth.

Surprisingly, her question only made Titus erupt in laughter.

"Your ship?" He grinned, standing back up onto his feet, "you better take a good look around, sweetheart."

Arvella slowly rose to her feet, looking around at her surroundings. No, he was right, this was not her small transport ship. It was of her family's design, there was no doubt in that, but it was a far grander model that they made.

Quickly, Arvella moved her hand behind her ear, tapping the device once more in hopes she would be taken anywhere but here.

"You can try that," Titus shrugged, a Cheshire grin wiped across his face, "but once I heard of your meeting with my brother, I tapped into your device's frequencies so you'd come right back here with me. At least, it was for your own safety."

"Send me back to my ship," Arvella demanded, narrowing her eyes at the youngest Abrasax.

"I'm afraid that's not possible at the moment," Titus shrugged, closing the distance between him and Arvella as he reached out and touched a piece of her hair. "It'll take quite some time until I'm able to change your frequencies back to normal, but in the meantime the least you can do is enjoy yourself for a little while."

Arvella smacked his hand away from her hair with a huff, heels clicking on the floor as she shoved past him. She didn't have time for any of this, this was all an annoying set back. The only thing she desired now was to be as far from this family as possible, and Titus wasn't making this any easier for her.

"Honestly I don't know what you see in him," Titus urged, quickly catching up to her, "he really hasn't been the same since mother died, I mean he wasn't exactly stable before her death either."

He laughed at his own joke as Arvella tried to tune him out, her mission now to get to wherever this ship was being piloted and to pilot it herself. Having had a part in designing this ship herself she knew it like the back of her hand.

"You've heard the rumors about her death, haven't you?" Titus hummed, trying to distract her.

Arvella's steps slowed as Titus spoke, her interest becoming peaked.

"I've spent a lifetime trying to drown out your family's twisted life," Arvella stated with a huff as she took a sudden turn.

"Of course you have," Titus rolled his eyes, racing around the corner after her, "everyone seems to think that Balem was the one who ended her life."

With those words Arvella stopped dead in her tracks. She lowered her head in thought, in utter disbelief, trying to disprove the rumor.

"Ah, it seems I've finally got your attention," Titus grinned, taking the opportunity to step in front of her, "I remember seeing her body, so lifeless, but something about her was also...off."

Arvella watched as Titus pointed to his own neck, leading Arvella to touch hers. No, it couldn't be. Balem loved his mother, and Seraphi had loved him so much. She had told her that in her vision, that was if she was actually there. She refused to believe that Balem was a killer, but on the other hand, it made sense.

"No…" Arvella whispered, burying her face in her hands as she tried to clear her thoughts. Several scenarios raced through her head, she could hear Seraphi's screams, and the way Balem had attacked her on his ship. It couldn't be.

"There there, I know it's a lot to take in all at once," Titus cooed, slowly wrapping his arms around her in an embrace, "I've always told you I was the better brother, at least I don't go choking all the people I love to death."

For a moment Arvella found comfort in his arms, every thought that made its way into her head was so overwhelming now. She loved Balem, that much she knew. Some invisible force tied them together and yet Arvella wanted nothing to do with him. A killer, a psychopath, a man destined to rule the galaxy, it all seemed to point to failure. Yet she wanted him, she needed him.

"He doesn't deserve you," Titus whispered into her ear, running his hand along her ringed finger, "whatever he told you about that ring, I assure you my mother was still wearing it the day she died."

Arvella's eyes fell to the ring adorning her finger, taking in its meaning.

"You're lying," she whispered back into his ear, awaiting his response.

"Ah, but what if I'm not?"

Arvella didn't need to look at him to know he was grinning like a cat who had stumbled upon a dish of cream. Arvella knew Titus we enough to know his tongue wove lies like a well-versed spider, yet a piece of her wanted to become entangled in his web.

"I promise I'd never hurt you the way he has," Titus continued, running his hand up her arm, "you spent 90 years running away from him, why change all of that now?"

Arvella could taste the unmistakable traces of wine on his breath, the decadent sweet scent that seemed to follow Titus wherever he went. His smell was so alluring, but also made her stomach churn.

"Fate has brought you and I together," his hand trailed down her soft curves, coming to a rest just above her hips, "with our beauty and brains, we could do so many great things…"

Arvella shuddered as his lips trailed the skin on her neck, delicate kisses trailing along her jawline. He intentions were dangerous and dark, she sensed that in his very core. Lust, greed, and power. There was nothing genuine about Titus Abrasax.

"Your flattery will get you nowhere," Arvella replied softly, moving away from Titus' grasp.

He simply smirked, a small laugh escaping his lips. His eyes, however, told a different mood entirely. Hazel eyes full of a silent rage, a defeat he was not willing to admit. Like an angry bull trapped within a glass cage, so powerful and yet so afraid to shatter his palace.

"Oh dear, please tell me you're not back at it already, brother?" A disappointed sigh rang from behind Titus, and none other than Kalique Abrasax stepped out from a corner.

"Didn't you just lose the recurrence?" She grinned, her voice sickeningly sweet like thick honey.

Recurrence? Arvella hadn't the slightest idea of what Kalique and Titus were talking about. Of course, she knew what the word had meant, but what, or who, was the recurrence?

"Oh please Kalique," Titus scoffed, turning his head to look at his sister, his body following, "only after you had so graciously let her go."

Kalique's expression quickly soured, her eyes narrowing. Whatever was going on between them was serious, Arvella had deciphered that much,

"Oh, that's right, you were just trying to rekindle some mommy dearest time," he smiled, shrugging his shoulders, "I must say she looked just like her, and shared the same distaste in you just like mother did."

Arvella was trying hard to piece together the information that was being tossed around, trying to make sense of everything going on around her. One second she was being seduced by Titus, and the next he was in a heated argument over some recurrence, one that involved the dead matriarch of the Abrasaxes herself. She had looked just like her...could it be?

"Well at least I didn't try to marry her right off the bat!" Kalique spat, stomping her heeled foot like a child.

"Please," Arvella shouted, stepping up in between the feuding pair, "can someone explain to me what is going on?"

Arvella was so confused, so desperate for an answer at this point. She wanted to know why Seraphi was being dragged into this mess again, she wanted to know if Balem had killed her, if the lies Titus spoke held some sort of truth. More than anything, she just wanted someone to be honest with her.

Kalique collected herself, correcting her posture and standing tall and regal once more.

"Oh, you haven't even filled her in yet?" Kalique snorted, tapping a finger to her chin, "my, my, you really don't waste any time." She sighed, rolling her eyes as she glided over to Arvella, locking her arm with hers, leading her away from Titus.

Arvella felt an uneasiness wash over her as the Abrasax sister led her away. Something was definitely off about this set of circumstances. Balem's conflicted meeting with her, Titus' sudden urge to be with her after all of these years, and Kalique's temper was finally rearing its ugly head. Everything seemed so wrong, well Titus wasn't too far from his usual repulsive self, but the mentioning of Seraphi, a recurrence, it was almost too much to grasp.

"You see," Kalique began, keeping her voice low, "my dear mother, well her geneprint has been perfectly replicated and identified. A girl known as Jupiter Jones, she is identical to Seraphi in almost every single way. She shares her exact genetic material, and because of that-"

"She's entitled to your inheritance…" Arvella completed, finally understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Precisely," Titus chimed in, having followed them in a hurry down the lavish corridor, "which is why she must be eliminated immediately, or everything that our mother has worked so hard to build up is going to be destroyed in an instant."

"You mean the empire she tried to destroy in the last years of her life?" Kalique corrected, pausing so she could turn and face Titus, her stare cold and definite.

"Oh don't get all sentimental now," he rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest, "don't try and tell me you didn't throw one of your tantrums for her like you always did to get what you want."

"Enough, both of you," Arvella shook her head, unwinding her arm from Kalique's, "Seraphi saw what I had seen, that day Balem showed me the refinery, it was a day that changed everything for me."

Her voice grew quiet, sad. She reached a hand up to her forehead, trying to lay all of her emotions before her, before she lost control of them entirely. Everything the Abraxes believed in was wrong. It was selfish, cruel, and all for what? Just for more time, more spins around the universe, more time to laugh and love. More time to screw up, to never learn any lessons. It was time well wasted, worthless, without a single regret or remorse. It was time that was not treasured, but expected. But this girl, this recurrence of Seraphi, her genes, she was the key to everything, to stopping this wretched cycle.

"Where is the girl now?" Arvella demanded, taking a few quick, long strides back over to face Titus.

Titus gave her that famous smirk of his, leaning forward so he was within inches of her face.

"I'm afraid that sort of information isn't given away freely," he whispered to her, leaning in for a kiss.

As if it were a natural reflex Arvella reacted with a quick slap, her palm making contact with his cheek. The youngest Abrasax snarled, baring his teeth as he held his injured cheek in his hand, ready to lash out. That was, until, Kalique stifled a laugh from behind them.

"I won't ask again," Arvella growled, standing her ground even though her insides trembled.

Titus closed his eyes, slowly dropping his hand back to his side, inhaling sharply.

"It is my understanding that my dear brother has been pursuing her as well," Titus admitted as his grin made an appearance once more, "he's already tried to kill the poor thing multiple times now...such a shame. It's only a matter of time until she falls into his grasp."

"No," Arvella shook her head, stepping away from Titus, "he wouldn't kill her, not for nothing."

Titus let out an uncontrolled laugh, loud and belittling.

"You're still so naive to my brother's true intentions," he sighed in disbelief, shaking his head, "he's done it once already now, would it be any different the second time around? He's come so close to losing everything before, he's truly desperate now."

Arvella tried to block out Titus, tried to twist his words in her head to make sense to her. No, she refused to believe that Balem, her Balem, would kill his own mother. He wasn't a killer, he was so gentle, so kind. Not this Balem. Her hand went to her neck once more, touching the tender skin that Balem’s hands had encircled. No, he would kill again, but for what?

Arvella felt her device click in her head, a signal that her own ship was near enough to warp. Without a single word or goodbye, she flicked her finger against the switch, just hoping that she wasn't too late.


	22. Chances

A primal scream echoed through the corridors. Resounding in pain, fear, a deep rage and more than anything else- loneliness. His fingers tore through his hair, threatening to rip each strand from his scalp. His mind was a natural disaster. A storm he couldn't control, that no gravity field would be able to clear. By some act that was out of his control, he had lost her once more.

He paced about the room, his steps quick and heavy. His cheeks were wet from the tears that showed no evidence of stopping. He had offered her everything, everything that she could possibly imagine. Fortune, fame, a certain future that she could be more than comfortable with. She could have been with him indefinitely, forever. Yet, she was gone.

His thoughts were interrupted when a voice came over his device. For a moment, he set his emotions aside, closing his eyes to hear the news.

"Your highness, we are approaching the Red Spot," his pilot hissed, one of the reptilian guards he had hired, "please prepare for landing."

Balem didn't answer, but simply turned his head towards the large window beside him. There she was, the largest planet in this solar system. It was so massive, in fact, that it could fit every other planet in the system within it. It had been the obvious choice for the refinery by his mother, and gradually he had been given charge of it. After her death, he had fully inherited it. His mother had created the massive refinery, she had taken such great care to ensure that everything would be perfect for him. Then, everything changed.

Balem looked away from his planet, back to the floor. Even when she wasn't here, even when she had been gone for so long, she still found ways to haunt him. Her most recent was the most concerning, but that would soon be taken care of. With the recurrence out of the way things would soon go back to normal, at least almost.

No, he had to cast Arvella out of his mind. He wouldn't let her destroy everything he had worked so hard to accomplish. He was the single most successful man in the entire universe, head of the most powerful dynasty, he would not let her take this from him. He would not let her ruin him just like she had Seraphi.

For now he let his anger subside, as he approached the Red Spot he focused his attention on his current goal. No doubt that the recurrence was on her way, with her family's lives being on the line he had no doubts that she would refuse his offer. Once the title to Earth was in his hands, she was easily disposable as was her family. No sense in keeping someone useless around, even if he was going to harvest the planet soon anyway. Clasping his hands in front of him he strode out of the room, making preparations to arrive on the planet. For now, everything was going as planned and he was destined for success.

———

Arvella's ship made its way through the gate, she half-expected to be denied access. As much as it pained her to return to this death-ridden atmosphere, she knew it was her only chance to shut it down completely. If it was true, if Seraphi had a recurrence, then there was hope she could put an end to it once and for all. Arvella only hoped that this recurrence shared her own distaste with the Regenex business.

She strode off of her ship accompanied with a handful of her guards, all armed with weapons. Normally when meeting with Balem there was no need for such preparations, but in this instance he was dangerous. She touched her neck to where a bruise was starting to form, where the outlines of his fingertips haunted her skin. Covering it up she wore a decorative collar necklace of sorts, silver with amethysts encrusted into it. It matched well with the black silk gown she wore, the train of it trailed the ground behind her like a swirl of smoke.

A breath hitched in her throat as she looked at the scenery outside of the dock. Dark orange clouds swirled around them like a bad dream, slowly, lazily, as if there wasn't a massive superstorm dancing above them. It would have been beautiful if it weren't for the millions of lives being stolen for profit here, and the only thing that filled Arvella was dread.

She breathed out, looking away from the scenery to focus ahead. She paused when she reached the entrance to Balem's throne room, greeted by one of his reptilian guards.

"Lord Balem is expecting you," he growled, his tongue flicking as he stepped to the side of the massive door.

Arvella nodded, biting her lip as she straightened her posture. She shouldn't have been this nervous, shouldn't be terrified of facing him once more. He had loved her, he had spent so much time and effort trying to gain her back. Still, he was desperate, unpredictable, and so unstable. Ever since Seraphi died, ever since he had almost lost her, he had taken a dramatic change for the worst. The Abrasaxes had always been known for their tempers, but Balem had always seemed so in control of it. Now, it was like treading on a lake of thin ice, one wrong step and she would be sent plummeting through into its cold depths.

She looked behind her as the door clicked shut, her guards being instructed to remain behind them. This was it, it was just her and Balem alone, again. Her heels tapped the metal floor audibly, down the long hall with arches like a cathedral. Pillars lined the walls on either side of her, illuminated by the golden light of the clouds outside of the equally massive window ahead of her. Lounging on a bench gazing lazily out of the window was whom she had come to see. She came to a stop just beside him, looking out the window at the many ships coming and going, at the marvelous architecture that made up this tomb.

"Where is she?" Arvella stated calmly, breaking the silence. She tried to keep her voice as monotone as possible, void of any emotion, but she couldn't help the trickle of fear that came out as well.

At first, Balem remained silent, his gaze unchanging as he stared blankly ahead of him, ahead at his massive empire. After a few tense moments, he finally shifted his head, moving a hand to rest on his cheek.

"She should be arriving shortly," he answered quietly. His gaze shifted to look over beside him, over to the woman he had almost killed. His expression didn't change, perhaps Arvella caught a hint of guilt in his eyes, as they drifted to her metal-clad neck.

"Why the sudden interest in this woman?" He questioned, turning his gaze back to the window, "and here I thought you came because you had changed your mind."

Arvella's eyes narrowed, she could feel the anger rising in her chest, the jeweled ring still burning on her finger. After nearly falling victim to his own hands, after all they had been through, he had expected her to come running back to his arms, to accept everything that was this cruel and inhumane business. No, she wasn't that easy.

"Then you've assumed wrong," Arvella answered coolly, "rumor has it she is the recurrence of your mother and she now holds the title to Earth."

To her surprise, Balem merely chuckled at this.

"She holds the title to nothing," he stated with a smile, "she is not my mother, and therefore she has the right to absolutely nothing."

"And yet genetically speaking, she does," Arvella reminded him, remembering what she had been told herself. "Your mother left her entire inheritance to her recurrence, if one should ever occur. That includes this refinery as well, if you remember correctly."

She watched as he face turned from mild amusement to rather annoyed in a split second, his smile fading to a frown. He furrowed his brows, standing up and walking up closer to the window, folding his hands behind his back.

"My mother built this empire we now thrive on," Balem replied, his voice growing more shaky and hoarse by the second, "she assured me that this was our legacy, our destiny, it can never be destroyed."

"This industry is wrong and unethical," Arvella retorted through gritted teeth, her anger finally cracking through, "it is vile and immoral for us to play 'god'. These are human lives we're talking about, not just cattle waiting for the slaughter."

"She changed all because of you," Balem growled, his lip quivering as he struggled to gain control, "she grew soft before her passing, wanting to undo all of the hard work she had spent her entire millenias building. She wanted to destroy this refinery, she wanted to destroy us."

"Balem, please," Arvella shook her head, her face twisting into sadness, "don't you see what this has done to you? What it has done to us? Your mother wanted so much better for you, she wanted you to see the life you were missing out on."

"Do not tell me what she wanted for me!" Balem screamed, his hands dropping to his sides in fists, his eyes shutting as tears welled in his them. "You never knew her like I did! She wasn't herself when she died, she was just the mere weak shell of who she once was!"

Arvella straightened herself up, expecting this sort of outburst from him. His emotions were so delicate, so easy to get off balance. This wasn't the Balem she had loved, he had changed into someone else entirely.

"She loved you," Arvella sobbed quietly, her face wet with tears, "she saw that you were going down the same path that she pursued, a path of greed and suffering. I beg you, change course. Be the man I loved so many years ago, I want him back."

Arvella knew this was her final plea. If there was any of the old Balem she knew left, then he would show her. She knew he was in there somewhere, underneath all of the confusion and despair, underneath his storm there was calm, his jade eyes showed her everything.

"There's nothing left for you here," Balem answered quietly, his tone cold and uncaring, "you are just like her when she died; weak and spineless."

He didn't bother to turn and look to her, didn't make any notion to acknowledge her existence any further. She might as well have been a ghost, a figment of his imagination he no longer cared to exist with. She was dead to him, as he was to her.

"Very well," Arvella answered, bowing her head low as she tried to mask her tears, trying to keep her voice strong, unbreakable. It took every ounce of her courage and strength to walk away from him, to turn her back on the only man she had ever let her heart be vulnerable to; he would be the last.

She didn't dare look behind her as she left the room, no matter how much it pained her not to. Every step was like a dagger was being driven deeper and deeper into her chest, an unbearable pain that only grew worse with distance. This time had felt different than the other times she had left him, this time she knew this was the end. He had made his bed, he had determined his destiny, and it was without her. She was nothing to him, nothing but a pile of ash left from his former conquests. She was the blemish in his spotless legacy and she was so easily disposed of.

As she left the room she was greeted by a familiar face, one she was surprised to see.

"Batair," she greeted coolly, trying to mask the sadness in her voice. She knew she must have looked a mess to him, her face stained with tears, voice shaky from her former encounter. She was ashamed, guilty that she had ever been involved with Balem before. She was embarrassed for her brother to see her like this.

"I came when I heard you were seeing him again," he sighed, looking to the doors that led to Balem's throne room, "I came to make sure you were alright."

Although he was just as young as Arvella had remembered him, his eyes were old and filled with worry. His eyes fell to her neck, where her heavy collar covered her marks from Balem, but Arvella could tell he already knew what was underneath it.

Before he could say a word to her, Arvella rushed into his arms and embraced him, letting her tears flow freely once more. So many emotions flooded her mind, so much pain and anguish. She wanted it all to just disappear, she wanted to be free of it all.

"Let's just go home," she managed through her tears, burying her face into his well-tailored suit.

Batair held her close, resting his head beside hers and nodded. He led her down the hall, his arm in his, their guards following closely behind.

As Arvella walked, another person came into view, striding down the hall with a number of Balem's reptilian guards following closely behind her, and none other than Balem's rat splice, Chicanery.

Arvella held her breath as she caught sight of the woman they were escorting. She was shocked to see that this woman, this recurrence, was identical in every way to Seraphi herself. This must have been Jupiter, and even though her looks resembled the dead matriarch, her eyes told a different story. They were determined and frightened, no doubt preparing for what was about to happen.

As they crossed paths Jupiter looked to Arvella, a confusion in her eyes. Was there a familiarity between them, did this recurrence somehow recognize her from a past life? No, it was impossible. Even though Jupiter was genetically identical to Seraphi, her memories and life was her own, not tied to Seraphi in any way. Arvella merely greeted her with a small smile, the best one she could muster after everything that had happened. As soon as they had crossed paths, they were gone, both striding onwards towards their own destinies.

After seeing Jupiter, after seeing the confidence in her stride, the stubbornness of a bull in her eyes, Arvella somehow knew that everything was going to be just fine.


	23. Ascend

“Goodbye, Jupiter, you gave me nothing and yet everything.”

For the first time in a long while, Arvella’s thoughts were silent. She let her wandering mind drift off into the fiery world that she was now departing, letting the soothing sounds of her ship’s engines lull her into a meditative state. She had taken a place on a window’s ledge, unsure of what had drawn her to look out on this planet of death to begin with. Perhaps it was her way of saying her last goodbyes to a future that never stood a chance.

She should have known that her relationship with Balem was doomed from the start. From the moment her destiny had become intertwined with the Abrasaxes on that fateful day so many decades ago, she should have run. They had caused her nothing but heartache, but not now.

She supposed now would have been a good time to be sorrowful, to waste more salty tears on the man that refused to let go. She should have been screaming and torn apart, but the only thing she felt now was peace. She finally understood what Balem loved, knew what held his heart for so long. Power, glory, praise. In his world there was no place for Arvella Silaverius, and she was finally at peace with that.

She sighed heavily as her eyes rested on the high structures that graced the planet’s skyline, watching as they passed countless amounts of them. Soon Jupiter and all of its dark secrets would be behind them, Arvella would finally be back home where she truly belonged.

Her eyes left the structures only to look at herself reflected into the window, having barely recognized herself after all she had been through. The only thing she could see was how tired she had looked, and as her gaze moved down she had recalled she still wore the bulky silver collar.

She moved her hands up to remove it, undoing the latches in the back with soft clicks. She exhaled as she removed it, wincing as the marks on her neck were agitated once more. It would be awhile until the bruising vanished, it was a wonder there wasn’t any permanent damage from his attack. 

She dropped the heavy choker to the floor with an audible ‘clunk’, rubbing her neck once more. Her mind drifted to what Titus had told her about Seraphi’s death, how her neck held similar markings. However, Titus was one she knew lied often, he was probably just trying to pry her away from Balem. Well, Balem had already done that himself.

A knock coming from the other side of the room roused her from her thoughts, turning her head to see her brother, Batair.

“Everything alright in here?” He asked calmly, stepping out from around the doorframe. 

Arvella could tell he was clearly concerned, his amber eyes filled with sorrow as his gaze fell to her exposed injured neck. She could see a bit of anger sparking behind his golden state, but he didn’t allow his face to express it.

“You made the right choice,” he finally spoke, striding over so he was standing next to her, gazing out the window.

Arvella remained silent, looking down at her hand which still wore Seraphi’s sapphire ring. She knew she should have tossed it out of a window, should have shoved it back into Balem’s hand when she had the chance. But when she looked deep into the starry jewel, she could see the vast expanses of the universe calling to her, becoming her, she couldn’t let that go.

“Balem made his choice,” she answered quietly, closing her ringed hand in a fist, “this planet was all he ever wanted.”

What left her lips should have made her break down in tears, should have made her crumple herself into her brother’s arms for comfort. Perhaps at one time it had, but now she knew her words were the truth. She had given Balem far too many chances than he deserved.

She looked back up to Batair, who offered her a sad smile in return, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Well, mother and father will be more than happy to see that you are safe,” he assured her calmly, “in fact they-“

His words were cut short as he stared out the window, his face scrunching to one of confusion. Arvella furrowed her brows, turning her head to the window to see what had caught her brothers attention so quickly. She wasn’t prepared for the scene that was playing out before her.

She watched as a small ship seemed fall from the eye of the storm, crashing through the gravity field in a trail of fire and smoke. It wasted no time plowing through the large arches that supplied power to the facility, the structures bursting into flame upon coming in contact with the poisonous atmosphere. The explosions reflected in her amethyst eyes, staring in disbelief of what was happening.

She whipped around as she heard Batair curse under his breath, his eyes filled with fear as the explosions seem to worsen by the second.

“We need to get off this damn planet now,” Batair growled, whipping around towards the door, “no doubt that the grab-hull is collapsing, everything will be destroyed in a matter of minutes.”

Arvella turned her head back to the window, her mouth agape as she was lost for words. In a matter of seconds things had turned for the worse, this refinery that seemed indestructible and strong was now collapsing under the weight of the storm above them.

Her eyes fleeted across the structure to where Balem’s throne room rested and a sickening feeling filled her gut.

“He’s still there,” she breathed, her voice shaking in fear.

Batair stopped in his tracks upon hearing her, twisting his body to look at his sister.

“I’m sure he has enough sense to evacuate this grave situation before anything happens to him,” he snapped realistically, seemingly in disbelief at his sister’s words.

Arvella knew that his words held some truth. Judging by the amount of ships now taking off, everybody who had any sort of survival instinct was abandoning this doomed city. She knew if Balem had the same sense, if he had been the Balem she had first met, he would have been on one of the ships. But the Balem that now rules alone in his empty throne room, the Balem that had almost ended her life, would never leave.

“He won’t leave this place,” Arvella bowed her head sadly, shaking it from side to side, “this is his legacy, his future. He will die here.”

“Then maybe that’s for the better,” Batair spat, no longer reigning his temper, “just look what he did to you, Arvella, he’s a monster!”

Arvella narrowed her eyes, looking up to him with a cold glare. Slowly, she stood up, inhaling sharply as she strode past him, fists clenched as she tried to compose herself.

“That may be so,” she exhaled calmly, closing her eyes, preparing for what she was about to say, “but you’re no better than him, indulging in immortality when you know how many lives went into making you last a little longer.”

She stared at Batair, her eyes glistening confidently as she watched his expression shrink from rage to regret. After she had told her family the dark secrets of Abrasax they still continued to gorge themselves with it without a care.

“Whether you like it or not, you’re a monster for supporting this practice. You’re no better than Balem, and you’re no better than me.”

Batair Bowes his head in shame, like a defeated dog with his tail between his legs. Arvella would admit that she used to be no better than her family, no better than the Abrasaxes. Perhaps the old saying was true, ignorance is bliss.

“So if I can save one damn person off of this bloody planet, then I’m going to try. Monster or not, peasant or king, we’re all the same. Balem is still down there, and I’m going back for him.”

Batair finally met Arvella’s gaze once more, his expression softening to one of understanding. He held his stare for a moment longer, and broke it when he closed his eyes in an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, but when I say we have to leave, we’re leaving. I won’t let you perish in this terrible place.”

The corners of Arvella’s mouth lifted into a slight smile, nodding her head in agreement. Perhaps this was entirely stupid of her to propose, but something inside of her was screaming to save him.

She rushed to the control room to the surprise of the small crew who piloted the ship, leaning onto a small panel as she typed in some commands.

“I need all the bio-scanners on to detect life-forms still in this area,” she ordered as they approached where Balem was last seen.

The crew nodded in confusion as they began to scan the area, already having received the riders from Batair to head back, even if they didn’t like the idea.

The area around them was crumbling fast, smoke and flames erupted from every point of their view. Arvella held her breath, knowing the chances of Balem actually having survived this destruction was extremely slim. She jolted when a familiar and welcomed ping filled the air and Arcella quickly pivoted to where the signal was coming from. Using her fingers on the holo screen she zoomed into a small blinking form, noticing it fading in and out rather quickly.

“10 degrees northeast, and quickly!” She barked, the pilots responding quickly and making the necessary adjustments.

“Arvella we have to leave soon!” Batair barked, “the grav-hull will only hold for a few more minutes!”

Arvell bit her lip nervously, looking out the window as she scanned the crumbling structures, the metal frames that held this city together melting u see the intense heat. She was about to give up hope, about to come to terms with Balem’s sealed fate, but that was until she saw a form sliding quickly from a collapsing metal balcony.

Balem.

“There!” She shouted suddenly, pointing as his body began to fall freely.

Before her mind could even realize what her body was doing, Arvella had shoved one of the pilots away, shoving her hands into the blue controls of the ship. It was only a matter of seconds before Balem would fall to his death, would be buried with his legacy forever on this stormy planet, there was no time to think.

Her hand stretched over as she flicked a glowing switch, listening to the hiss of the emergency roof hatch open in the room behind them. She ignore the shouts and protests of the other in the room, ignored the anger and fear that left her brother’s throat. The only thing she heard was her focused breathing as it slowed down, her eyes fixated on his falling form ahead.

In one swift motion, she ducked the ship down quickly beneath him, and everything seemed to stop when she heard a loud thud from behind them in the room.

Time seemed to slow down from that moment on. Arvella didn’t remember flying up from her seat as a panicked pilot took back over his seat, she didn’t remember shoving past her brother as he screamed for them to leave the planet now. The doors hissed open upon her approach, but she wasn’t ready for what lied on the other side.

She collapsed onto her knees next to his still body, staring at him for the longest time. She was trying to look for any sign of life still within him, waiting for a ride and fall in his chest.

But it never came.

She moved his body so he was propped onto her lap, hoping that maybe this change in position would suddenly bring him to life, anything was better than this broken man that she was trying so hard to hold together.

Her trembling hand reached out to his fragile, shattered face. Her fingers brushed against the damaged skin, tracing the lines of his jagged cheekbone. A shaky gasp escaped her throat as she gently laid her palm against his freckled cheek, shivering at the frigidness she was met with. Tears swelled in her amethyst eyes as she dared to look at him, dared to look at his still form, closed eyes that would see no more.

"What has happened to you, my starlight?" She choked, rubbing her thumb over the blood and ash that had trespassed onto his flawless skin.

Finally, the barrier broke as her eyes shut tightly, a horrible sound retching from her throat as she cried, screamed, released the pain she had held for so long. He was gone, he had left her, he had broken his promise. She wept into her free hand, held her own shattering face as she cried, cried for the first time in a long time. She was gone, she had left him, she had broken her promise.

After a few moments, she brought herself to open her eyes, to look upon him once more, hoping to see him smiling at her, his smokey eyes so full of life, so full of ambition. Her hand still cupped his cheek, his frozen face. She ran her hand through his hair, running her fingers through his untamed strands, brushing them away from his lifeless features.

The tears ran freely down her cheeks, sobbing as she froze, her fingers idly running through his hair. She remembered when he would let her touch him, let her fingers playfully dance across his skin, memorizing every secret his body held, memorizing every single strand of dark hair. Now, those secrets had vanished, he was now so unfamiliar to her touch. He was gone.

She looked away from him, gazed up through the skylight of stars passing by, of planets spinning endlessly through vast amounts of space and time. She had yet to see what most of those unknown worlds possessed, and now she had no desire to, not without him.

"You promised me, Balem," she whispered, voice trembling, "don't you remember? You promised."

Her gaze was unbroken as she watched the sky pass overhead, she found herself lost as she had many times before. She was a dreamer, a lost soul, a star-crossed hopeless girl with no path, as she had been told many times before. In her sorrow, she found a glint of happiness, a hint of humor as she thought about the first time she had met him. It had been anything but joyous at the time, but now it was all she could find to keep her heart beating.

She didn’t hear the hissing doors behind her as Batair entered the room as she relished in her past memories. She didn’t want to forget everything they had been through, she wasn’t ready to let him go. She lowered her head and buried it into Balem’s lifeless form, sobbing uncontrollably into his torn and bloodied silks.

“Arvella,” Batair sighed in a hushed voice, looking sadly upon the two of them, “I’m sorry.”

Arvella only continued to weep, her brother’s words bringing her no comfort. Everything seemed so futile now, she had tried to save his life, but even then she was unsuccessful. She had miscalculated the impact from the landing, she had hoped that she was close enough to negate the impacts, that there was a small chance that he could survive it. But now as she studied his broken body, the blood and bruises that caked his once perfect form, it was too much for him to take.

Slowly, she brought her head away from him, gazing upon his face once more. For the first time in centuries, he was at peace.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she began to gently lay him down, her sobs softening ever so slightly. He was no longer suffering, no longer struggling with the pain of his past. Balem Abrasax was-

Breathing.

At first Arvella thought it was a cruel trick of her eyes, that the movement in his chest was just caused by a nearby vent blowing air. It was a shallow movement, barely noticeable unless one were looking for a pattern.

Batair must have noticed this too and quickly knelt on the other side of Balem, placing two fingers just u set his jaw as he felt for a pulse.

“I need a medic!!!” He shouted suddenly, confirming Arvella’s own disbelief. 

“He’s alive…” Arvella exhaled, staring down at her former love’s face in awe.

“Barely,” Batair reminded her as he stood, moving out of the way when a couple of crew members flooded the room wearing white.

Arvella moved out of the way to allow them to assess him quickly, and with a few motions they had equipped him with levitating devices, and she watched as he was floated out of the room to the small infirmary.

She stood there in disbelief as the adrenaline pumping through her veins began to disappear, replaced with a sense of calm. She looked to Batair, who looked equally surprised as he ran a hand through his disheveled blond hair.

“Well, you did it,” he half-laughed, looking out of the window as they left the stormy planet behind them.

Arvella’s gaze fell to where his lay, at the planet Jupiter with its swirling surface. Beneath it died a legacy, buried secrets that would hopefully remain there. The planet had reclaimed itself, had healed the wound that Seraphi Abrasax had made, that Balem had kept open for so long. Arvella had a notion this was the doing of a certain recurrence, no, a Jupiter Jones. She watched as a ship sailed towards the west, and Arvella had a good feeling about who was aboard it. A smile graced her lips as it disappeared into the horizon, carrying a family back to its home, a safe one. With the title to Earth now in Jupiter’s hands, it was safe from Balem and his siblings. Perhaps one day she would even be able to thank her in person.

Somewhere Arvella knew that Seraphi Abrasax was smiling, watching as her work was finally put to an end. It would be one last regret that the Abrasax matriarch would have to carry with her. Now, it was time to heal the other regret she had tried so hard to fix herself; Balem.


	24. Time

It had taken Arvella some time to convince herself to go and see him. Not because she was afraid to see his broken body hooked up to various tubes and wires, but because she was afraid of herself and her lack of control around him. If she wanted she could have easily forgotten what he had done to her, of his strong hands wrapped tightly around her neck. She could have put that all behind her and ruled beside him, but what sort of future would that have brought them?

Destruction.

Balem’s fate had already been determined on that planet, he should have been buried under billions of tons of hurricane and the ruins of his empire. She should have forgotten him there, but her heart hadn’t allowed her to be merciless. No, there was something in Balem that she still clung to, perhaps it was just a distant memory of what they could have been. No matter, this was her reality now and she had no choice but to face it.

They had since boarded their much larger main vessel, the one that would take her and Batair back to Cenus. There Balem was transported to their well-kept infirmary, where he would receive more extensive treatment for his injuries. Batair has made the mistake of bringing up Regenex as a solution to his injuries and Arvella had quickly shut that idea down. Balem would just have to heal somewhat normally while he was still in her care.

There was also the matter of what they were going to do with this Abrasax sibling. Surely they couldn’t keep him hidden here forever, his siblings ought to know that he did in fact make it off the planet in one piece. When Balem was well-enough to go off on his own she supposed she would hand him back over to his family.

She stood at the doorway for the longest time, leaning against it with arms crossed as she watched him silently. He was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling slowly but noticeably stronger. The medics had just finished up with him, doing all they could for now to manage his injuries. Something terrible had definitely happened between him and Jupiter as far as she knew, his body was broken from head to toe. He had sustained a blast to his leg, a gaping hole that had been patched back up, his bone mended together for now. Not to mention several broken and bruised ribs and his jaw had been shattered pretty severely. Thanks to the technology aboard her ship, these things had been mended fairly well and his prognosis was decently good. It would only take a few days for his injuries to heal completely.

Taking a deep breath, she finally approached him, the melodic beeping and whir of machinery echoed around her in the sterile room. She hated the smell of sickness, the artificial stench that plagued medical facilities. This was the last place she had wanted to be but she knew she couldn’t just leave him like this.

She took a seat next to him, a metallic chair positioned by the bed, folding her hands in her lap. Her eyes slowly drifted to his face, his flawless skin having been restored almost fully with a simple spray of medication. It was astounding how far medical advancements had come in her lifetime, if only there was a more humane alternative to extending one's time.

She sighed, her eyes straying away from his face, down his healing and bare torso. Several wires were attached to him, monitoring his vital signs closely. The blue screens that hovered above reflected what those were, seemingly normal and calm. She tore her eyes away from him, back to her own lap where her fists clenched tightly, knuckles turning white. She exhaled quickly, her hands relaxing back so they were lying flat. She wouldn’t allow him to have this effect on her, not at a time like this.

She turned her head as something glittered in the corner of her eye, enrapturing her attention. It was a simple purple crystal, sitting by itself on a small table just on the other side of the room. It was easy to miss, hence why she hadn’t noticed it to begin with, and yet within its smooth and glassy surface it held something worth more than all of the Regenex in all of the universe.

She stood up, her breath hitching in her throat, her own eyes reflecting the stone. She recognized it right away, could feel its energy beckoning her closer. She closed her eyes as her hand closed around it, sighing as memories flooded her mind. 

For a moment she was back with Balem, all of those centuries ago, in the crystal cavern back home. She had given this to him, given it to him as a memory, as a way to remember the time they had spent together that day.

She turned it over in her hand as she opened her eyes, getting lost in its ever-changing hues, stars and galaxies swirling in its depths. 

“They found that in his garments.”

Arvella was jolted out of her thoughts as she heard her brother’s voice, turning around to face him, the crystal still held in her palm.

“He kept it,” she finally spoke, her voice cracking as she could no longer keep her emotions reigned.

“I thought that crystal looked familiar,” Batair smiled lightly, glancing over to where Balem rested.

“I never knew you took him there,” he huffed a small laugh, “that place holds a lot of memories for our people.”

Arvella nodded her head in understanding, a smile gracing her lips as her eyes fluttered back down to the crystal in her hands. There were no words to describe what she was feeling right now, for all of the emotions flooding back into her heart. After all these years, after all those decades of being apart, he still carried this token with him, he still cared. Tears trickled down her cheeks, but not ones of sorrow.

“I’d best be going then,” Batair nodded, leaving his sister with her thoughts.

Arvella wiped her cheeks, stepping back over to Balem. Lifting up one of his folded hands, she placed the crystal under his palm.

“So you can remember us,” she whispered, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

Her lips lingered for a moment longer, closing her eyes as she took in the feeling of his skin against hers. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the moments she used to spend with him, back when she was still oblivious to the sources of Regenex. The connection she had to Balem was real, at least it had been. After meeting with him at his refinery for the last time, she thought she had lost him forever. Time was now the only thing that could heal their wounds.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this work. I originally posted this on Fanfiction.net, but decided to expand it to a few other platforms. All comments and reviews are appreciated!


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